<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>A Rival to Fate by TheOracle</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29498433">A Rival to Fate</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOracle/pseuds/TheOracle'>TheOracle</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Humor, It Really is a Galaxy Far Far away, Medical Torture, Modern Girl in Star Wars, Plo Koon is a Fashionista, Pre-Star Wars: Attack of the Clones, Slow Burn, Slowest of Burns - Seriously, Star Wars Doesn't Exist on Earth, Star Wars Food is Disgusting, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Swearing, Young Anakin Skywalker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:09:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>81,613</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29498433</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOracle/pseuds/TheOracle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>All Obi-Wan wanted was a few days where nothing went wrong. When a strange airship plummets out of the Coruscant sky, and a half-dead body pulled from the wreckage has the Jedi questioning everything they've ever known, Obi-Wan finds he's suddenly got a lot more to handle than just his stubborn padawan.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anakin Skywalker &amp; Ahsoka Tano, Anakin Skywalker &amp; Original Character(s), Obi-Wan Kenobi &amp; Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Original Female Character(s), Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>558</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>294</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Oh, it’s the safest form of transport they all said. More likely to get killed crossing the road, don’t you know? Well fuck it; at least in a car it all happens in an instant. Just bang - and then you find out pretty quick if you’ve made it or not. No time for existential ponderings. No long seconds of watching the vast rippling silver sheet of the Atlantic Ocean gobble up more and more of the passenger side window.</p><p>“Brace for impact,” the pilot called over the tannoy - in a remarkably calm South African accent – even though it felt like they’d been hunched over for hours already, faces mashed into the rubber life-vests looped around their necks. Emily couldn’t even see the man who had been sat next to her for most of the flight; the thick wedge of her elbow as she cradled her arms over her head, had blotted out everything but sunshine yellow plastic. From his voice though, he’d already exhausted his list of prayers to Jesus and the Virgin Mary, and was now working his way down a seemingly endless line of saints.</p><p>All Emily could think about was that last picture she had sent to her family, of her pasty, sunburnt body on the white sands of Sal Island, two massive cocktails in hand and a smug tagline of ‘bet you wish you were me,’ that she’d added specifically to annoy her brother. He may be a sleep deprived father to her colicky nephew, but given the likelihood of her immediate future as a bloated, banana coloured corpse, his life choices weren’t looking so bad retrospectively. Perhaps worst of all, those were her final words. Her painfully ironic epitaph. Not some profound musing on life. Not words of hope or encouragement, or even declarations of love to her family and friends.</p><p>Nope.</p><p>Bet you wish you were me…</p><p>Emily clamped down hard on the sick bubble of laughter trying to escape the iron fist gripping her insides. She didn’t want to be the crazy one who goes down swivel-eyed and cackling. If nothing else, she’ll die with a stoic, grim-faced dignity she never had in life. The guy beside her was only half-way down the G’s on his canonical greatest hits list, when the plane gave a heaving lurch and a fizzle of static rushed over the sweat soaked skin along Emily’s arms and neck. Everything went oddly weightless and silent. White noise thrummed, blotting out the world in a yawning scream.</p><p>Looking up, Emily watched with morbid detachment as the plane peeled apart in front of her, just before she stopped seeing anything at all.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“How many times do I have to say it, Anakin? These training sessions are not competitions; they are exercises to build co-operation between padawans. You are meant to work together to overcome the obstacles presented to you - not to just barge in and override all other opinions.”</p><p>“The team needed a leader-”</p><p>“Yes! One elected by agreement. Not the person who simply shouted down all opposition.”</p><p>Obi-Wan’s headache was back again. The Coruscant skyline stretched out beyond the Temple’s walls, glittering spikes of transparisteel and polished ceramic against a sky painted with the dusky pinks and burnt oranges of late evening. The breeze was cool, pushing back the thick metal and oil scent of a world forged in industry. Usually evenings like this filled Obi-Wan with a kind of meditative peace; a calm that suffused him even when surrounded by the vast, teaming bustle of a trillion lives that pressed in around their small sanctuary. Instead, the combined pulse in the Force of all those people only added to the throbbing ache behind his left eye. Anakin had turned away, red-faced, the air around him roiling in frustration, his white-knuckle grip on the banister almost making the metal groan around it. Obi-Wan took a moment to breathe, using his palms in an attempt to press the headache back from his eyes. For someone who was always receiving praise for his calm demeanour, patience and diplomacy, it frankly amazed Obi-Wan how quickly Anakin could push him to the edge of all three. It was a gift on par with his skill in the Force - and one he seemed to use even more frequently.</p><p>“I just wanted us to win,” Anakin said finally, voice small and achingly child-like. Obi-Wan sighed, releasing his frustration with his breath. It was difficult at times, remembering that his apprentice was still so young, in spite of his recent growth spurt and remarkable skills.</p><p>“The whole point of the exercise wasn’t in winning or losing. It was about listening to your peers, using your individual strengths to overcome each obstacle. It was about team-work, Anakin. Something that - for all your skills - you are still sorely lacking in.”</p><p>“I’m sorry Master,” Anakin said, shoulders slumping as his grip slackened on the railing. His boyish face, still clinging to the softness of childhood, had an expression of utter dejection.</p><p>“I know that you are trying your best, Anakin, but you forget that the greatest strength of a Jedi does not lie in their skills with a lightsabre, or in the power of the Force alone. It is in our bond with each other. It is in the knowledge that you are surrounded by people who share with you the deepest of connections - the strongest of fellowships. It is only with this support and guidance, that the Jedi gain true strength.”</p><p>“Yes Master,” Anakin said. His defiance had burned out as quickly as it had ignited, leaving him staring bleakly at the ground. Obi-Wan placed a comforting hand on the bony jut of his padawan’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Eventually Anakin raised his eyes to meet him.</p><p>“I have made a request to Master Yoda that we may be excluded from off-world missions for the next few months. I worry that having been away from the Temple for as long as we have, may have impacted your training. I must admit, I often forget just how vital it is to spend time with others of your own age,” Obi-Wan said, dropping his hand and turning back to the view before them. “Additionally, it would be nice to sleep in a comfortable bed with regular meals for once. I can’t remember the last time I had a-”</p><p>It was like every nerve in his body had been hit with a blast taser. The disruption in the Force was a concussive shock. A boom and a roar, followed by Anakin’s voice shouting out in disbelief, as they both turned to look up at a flaming ship hurtling out of the atmosphere, smearing smoke behind it as it plummeted past the Temple and out towards the industrial district, shedding debris as it fell.</p><p>Obi-Wan and Anakin together, without a word, ran towards the shuttle dock. They could feel a trill of alarm ring up through the Temple in reaction to the disturbance. Already, Jedi and staff alike had begun to pour out of the doorways, eyes following the plume of destruction streaked across the horizon.  A moment later, the air vibrated with a secondary explosion, off into the distance.</p><p>“Do you think this is an attack, Master?” Anakin asked as they wove through the growing crowd.</p><p>“If it is, they have a terrible aim,” Obi-Wan replied, noticing a recognisable flash of green tendrils as they disappeared into a nearby speeder. Turning sharply, with Anakin half a step behind him, Obi-Wan made his way to the sleek silver side of a Republican airspeeder. An easy smile greeted him as he reached the cockpit.</p><p>“Master Fisto. Nadhar,” Obi-Wan said with a low bow of greeting to both the Nautolan Jedi and the young padawan beside him. The Mon Calimari’s skin was still the pale orange of youth, and it seemed to Obi-Wan only yesterday that he had seen Nadhar frolicking in the spawning pools, his vestigial tail still attached. How quickly time had passed. “I assume you are both making your way towards the crash site?”</p><p>“Master Kenobi,” Kit Fisto greeted with a nod, pausing the flurry of his hands over the vehicles controls. “We were just about to leave. I have already sent one of the engineers to inform the Council that my apprentice and I would be making our way to the incident immediately.”</p><p>“Excellent,” Obi-Wan replied. “Would you mind if we joined you? I’ve witnessed a number of oddities in my time, but I’ve never seen anything quite like that. I’d be interested in getting a closer look.”</p><p>“I’d happily welcome your assistance,” the Nautolan said, his bright smile sharpening as he looked to Anakin, “if you are able to keep up with our speeder.”</p><p>Anakin’s face lit up at the friendly challenge, his smile almost as brilliant as the Nautolan’s. Obi-Wan bit back a groan as his apprentice ran off towards a bright green speeder. Kit just laughed and, engaging his thrusters, threw Obi-Wan a parting wave before darting off into the Coruscant traffic. Barely a breath later, Anakin pulled the speeder up beside him.</p><p>“Perhaps I had best drive…” Obi-Wan said, hopping into the passenger seat just as Anakin hit the thrusters, shooting them into the tangled maze of the planet’s traffic. Transporters and speeders zipped past, just a whistle of sound and colour as Anakin gunned the ship into a nose dive, corkscrewing through the lanes, his eyes bright and a manic smile plastered across his face. Obi-Wan resigned himself to gripping his seat and praying for a quick death, as they shot across the city. The glint of Kit Fisto’s airspeeder was a tiny, glittering spec of silver before them. The vast smoke plumes that crowned the Industrial sector loomed up as the buildings levelled out. One of those buildings - a squat, dull grey duracrete box – had a billowing crater in the side of it. Obi-Wan pointed to it as they approached.</p><p>“Try to get as close to the crash as possible, Anakin,” he said. Master Fisto’s speeder had already landed on a balcony several floors above, and they watched as he and his padawan made their way into the building. Anakin hovered close to where the three finned tail of the airship was jutting out of the ruined wall. Obi-Wan got to his feet, taking a moment to judge the jump before turning back to address his apprentice.</p><p>“If you can, land the ship nearby. There may still be survivors to evacuate.”</p><p>“Yes Master,” Anakin replied, just as Obi-Wan leapt from the speeder to the rubble below. It took a moment to gain his balance on the uneven ground. The building creaked and groaned around him, the air thick with the smell of burning fuel and hot metal. Fire licked along a pile of mangled machinery parts and an assembly droid, its lower half decimated by a fallen support beam, whistled and beeped as it tried to pry itself from the wreckage. Overhead, severed electrical cables sparked and fizzled and the sound of an evacuation siren could be heard coming from further inside the factory. On crashing, the airship had wedged itself between two levels. The front of the vessel was entirely crushed by the impact, all that remained was a crumpled mass of white metal. Further along the body, near to the twisted mess of a side wing, was a large tear straight through the ships centre. Obi-Wan reached out with his senses, trying to find any spark of life from within the vessel, but could feel nothing.</p><p>Something wasn’t right.</p><p>Obi-Wan edged his way towards the split, using a fallen strut to steady himself as he peered down into the gaping wound. It was a grisly sight. The inside had been almost entirely ripped apart, what looked like blue upholstered chairs were scattered and piled amid the unmistakable shape of humanoid bodies. Wires trailed from the ceiling like chacarus spider webbing, and bright bursts of yellow here and there could be spotted, often smeared in the darkening crimson of blood. The air was filled with the stench of melted fabric and flesh. Nothing moved.</p><p>“Hello?” Obi-Wan called into the hollowed shell. “Can anyone hear me? Is anyone alive?”</p><p>“Master Kenobi,” a reply came from behind him. Obi-Wan turned to see Kit Fisto looking through a charred gap in the wall panels where the front of the plane had punched through into the corridor beyond. “Have you discovered any survivors?”</p><p>“No, not yet; although, I don’t hold much hope. What about the people inside the building? Have they been evacuated?”</p><p>“Most of the workforce are droids, though we have discovered a few others. My padawan and I will continue to search the lower levels, to ensure there are no further casualties.”</p><p>“Alright. I think I’m going to take a closer look inside this ship. There’s something about it that just doesn’t feel right to me.”</p><p>“Be careful, friend,” Master Fisto said, before giving a nod of acknowledgement.</p><p>“When am I not?” he mused to himself, the creeping feeling in his gut already telling him that this was probably a terrible idea. Obi-Wan turned back to the wreckage, reaching out with the Force in an effort to judge the best spot to land. He leapt down, boots hitting a spongy patch which squished unpleasantly underfoot. Obi-Wan thought it best not to look, and instead began to pick his way down the ruined interior. The inside wasn’t like any ship he had ever seen. It was long and narrow, the number of seats and bodies scattered around seemed far too many for so small a vessel. Possibly some kind of transporter? There would have been little to no room to move around by his estimates. While slavery was illegal in the Republic, it did not wholly stop other, equally nefarious, ways for criminals to exploit the vulnerable or desperate. He had heard of seized cargo ships, crammed with ‘workers’ who had little choice, coerced into servitude to pay off overblown debt or on the promise of citizenship. Could this be one of those operations? Well, whatever had gone on here, there was nothing left now. Obi-Wan had managed to make his way to the back of the vessel, calling out occasionally in case anyone could hear him. There was nothing, no movement, no sound; just a terrible scent that reminded him of battle.</p><p>“Master!” Anakin could be heard calling, before his face appeared through the tear in the ship. His wide blue eyes took in the scene. Obi-Wan wished he could keep this kind of horror from his padawan, as futile a thought as that was. This was all part of the life of a Jedi. All too often, there was nothing they could do but try to salvage any remaining hope from catastrophes they were unable to prevent.</p><p>“Did you speak to Master Fisto?” Obi-Wan asked, drawing Anakin’s attention back to him.</p><p>“Yes Master. He’s working with the Republic Fire and Rescue droids. They’ve cleared the building and have a crew putting out the fires,” Anakin replied, his eyes drawn back to a heartbreakingly small body in the corner. “Did nobody survive?”</p><p>“I’m afraid not,” Obi-Wan said, as he started making his way back up the ship. “There’s nothing more we can do here. We had best help Master Fisto with the evacuation, and put in a request for a salvage team to come and extract the ship.”</p><p>“Wait, Master!” Anakin said, his hand stretched out. Obi-Wan paused, reaching out to sense for danger, but nothing stirred. “I saw something…”</p><p>“Where?” Obi-Wan asked, whipping around in the direction of his padawan’s gaze. Everything appeared as eerily silent as before. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught the barest twitch of movement.</p><p>“Under those seats Master,” Anakin said, but Obi-Wan was already moving, a careful jump setting him at a clearing next to a pile of debris. The jump, as it turned out, was not careful enough. The ship groaned, the floor lurching under the sudden impact of the Jedi’s weight. The whole back end of the ship began to tilt and shift.</p><p>“Uh…that doesn’t sound so good,” Anakin called, from where he was still balanced against the wing. Obi-Wan quickly began to shift the twisted pieces of wreckage from the pile. A body appeared, face down, a huge shard of white metal piercing through the torso and out past the shoulder. From underneath, Obi-Wan could hear the faintest gasp. There! He could see a hand, crimson with gore but the fingers were moving, clawing at the ground. Obi-Wan eased the lifeless body to the side, revealing a prone figure underneath, the shallow rise and fall of their chest barely perceptible under the layered rubble and blood. The ship moved again, screeching in protest as it’s metal hull scraped against the factory floor as it began to dip.</p><p>“Master!” Anakin shouted, “You have to get out of there. The ship’s about to collapse through the floor.”</p><p>“Get back from the ship!” Obi-Wan called back, stooping down to haul the blood drenched body into his arms. He ran up the hull, even as it began to shudder violently under his feet. Obi-Wan let the Force guide him, and when he felt the pull in his stomach that told him - Jump! Now! - he leapt for the gap, body twisting through the air, the ship sinking with a roar beneath him. Obi-Wan struck the ground hard, his torso angled to take the full brunt of the fall as he smacked into the far wall. Anakin was there beside him, dragging them both through the door and into the hallway beyond. They watched as the white ship dipped from sight, and felt the thunderous tremor as it crashed through the levels below, billowing dust and smoke up through the gaps in the floor.</p><p>“Are you alright Master?” Anakin asked between hacking coughs.</p><p>“Yes, I’m fine Anakin. Though that was a little too close for comfort,” Obi-Wan admitted, already feeling the bruise forming across his back. “Quick, help me up. I’m afraid if I don’t get them medical aid, this person won’t last much longer.”</p><p>With Anakin’s help, Obi-Wan hauled himself to his feet. The humanoid in his arms hung limp in his grasp, their head lolling at an uncomfortable angle.</p><p>“I parked the speeder on the other side, Master - it’s just this way,” Anakin said, heading off down the hall at a run. Obi-Wan kept pace, the evacuation lights overhead casting everything in pulsing blue as they sprinted down the corridors. Occasionally a security or repair droid would come careening out of a side room, bumbling about code violations or evacuation procedures, but Anakin would push them aside with a casual flick of the Force. When they reached the landing pad, their green speeder was the only vehicle in sight. Obi-Wan wished his padawan didn’t have such a love for fast aircraft; the speeder had only two seats.</p><p>“You’ll need to stay here and help Master Fisto,” Obi-Wan said, placing the body down as carefully as possible in the spare seat. “I also need you to contact the Jedi Temple. Inform them that I’ll need a medical unit to meet me on landing bay zero-nine-two. Inform them that we have a priority one emergency.”</p><p>“You’re not going to take them to a Republic Medicentre?”</p><p>“There’s no time,” Obi-Wan said, flipping on the booster engines. “The Temple is closer than any of the nearby facilities. Once you’ve aided Master Fisto, I’ll meet you back at the Temple.”</p><p>“Yes, Master.”</p><p>“Oh, and Anakin?” Obi-Wan said, catching his apprentice’s eye. “Do try to stay out of trouble until you return…”</p><p>“Of course, Master,” Anakin replied, but there was a light in his eye that automatically made Obi-Wan want to power down the speeder and give him an hour-long lecture on the importance of following orders. The unconscious body beside him was, however, rather more urgent than Obi-Wan’s need to correct his padawan’s impulses. With a parting frown of warning to his apprentice, Obi-Wan engaged the thrusters and pulled the speeder out into the darkening skyline.</p><p>While Obi-Wan had gradually become less enamoured with flying as he aged – and was subjected more and more frequently to Anakin’s death-defying stunts – he was still a gifted pilot in his own right. Without his padawan’s hair-raising theatrics, Obi-Wan cut across the Coruscant traffic, weaving between the glimmering buildings and darting vehicles. The Jedi Temple stood in the centre of it all; a calm oasis in the heaving bustle of a planet that never slept. The five Temple Spires reached out into the sky, the sight of them always filling Obi-Wan’s heart with the promise of home. He looped the speeder round to the docking bay closest to the Infirmary. A team of healers and medi-droids were already waiting around a hoverbed, and Obi-Wan spotted the silver headpiece and yellow skin of Doctor Nema amongst them. He landed the speeder a few paces from the group and was immediately surrounded.</p><p>“Master Kenobi,” Doctor Nema said in greeting, as she quickly moved to the other side of the vehicle. “I’m not sure whether I’m more relieved or surprised that it’s not you or your padawan that I’m being called to treat for once.”</p><p>“Oh, believe me, I’m just as shocked by it as you are,” Obi-Wan replied, helping the Doctor lift her patient onto the hoverbed. Holograms and vital monitors popped up in the air surrounding the figure, and under the lights of the medi-droids, Obi-Wan got his first proper look at the person he’d rescued. They were undoubtedly a humanoid female; Obi-Wan could make out the features under the layers of dirt. Almost the entire right side of her body had been burnt. Some form of clothing, bright yellow in colour, had melted into the skin over her right arm and shoulder. Welts and shards of metal like shrapnel were embedded all the way up the side of her neck and face. She was covered in so much blood that Obi-Wan didn’t want to guess how much was her own, or what was from the unfortunate body that had concealed her.</p><p>“Run a full scan,” Doctor Nema calmly ordered, her fingers flying over the datapad in her hands. “We’ll need to take her straight to the bacta-tanks. Doctor Z’halra, please go ahead of us and ready the chambers. The patient will need a full red cell transfusion when we arrive.”</p><p>“Were there any other survivors?” Doctor Nema asked Obi-Wan directly, as the medi-droids started pushing the hoverbed towards the entrance to the Temple.</p><p>“I fear that this is the only one. If any more were left alive, it’s unlikely they survived the second crash. Master Fisto is still at the scene with his padawan and Anakin. If they find any others, I’m sure they’ll contact us immediately.”</p><p>The entry doors to the Temple opened to reveal the high ceilings and carved archways of the inner halls. The medical centre and healing rooms were located close to the surface docks, specifically for ease of transportation should an injured Jedi arrive. As they walked, the medi-droids kept up a running commentary on the vital scans, with Doctor Nema interrupting every so often to ask questions. One of the droids suddenly blared a warning signal, it’s faceplate flashing red as a ream of data streamed across it’s visual interface.</p><p>“What is it?” Obi-Wan asked, but the Doctor had stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes flickering over the display.</p><p>“Run a scan on Master Kenobi,” she instructed one of the other droids. Before Obi-Wan could blurt out a question, he was near blinded by the blue beam of a medi-droid as it scanned down his body. Half a second later the faceplate flashed red, just as it had with the other one.</p><p>“Oh, I have a bad feeling about this,” he said, as Doctor Nema tapped her fingers over her datapad. A blue forcefield shimmered to life around Obi-Wan and the woman on the hoverbed.</p><p>“I’m sorry Master Kenobi, but the scans have detected a number of contagions not matching anything found in our Archives. I’m afraid you will need to be quarantined while I run further diagnostics.”</p><p>“Quarantined?” he replied back, as the medi-droid started ushering him back from the group towards the iso-chambers. His day really wasn’t going as well as he had hoped. First the training with Anakin, then a crashed airship - and now he was likely infected with something that would, knowing his luck, kill him. Was it too much to ask for a day of relative normalcy? “How long will I have to be quarantined for? I do have a padawan to train.”</p><p>“Oh, I’m sure it won’t be for long, Master Kenobi,” Doctor Nema said. “I’ll have the medics run an analysis as their top priority.”</p><p>Obi-Wan sighed, letting the medi-droid shuffle him out of the hallway. The blue forcefield followed him as he walked towards the back of the medical sector. Every so often his droid minder would whistle and beep, as though admonishing him for his poor decision-making skills.</p><p>“Yes, yes. No need to be quite so impatient,” he said, as the door to one of the iso-chambers opened, revealing a large room with a single bed in the middle. As he stepped inside, his forcefield flickered off as the chamber doors sealed shut, an observation room on the far side the only break in the smooth grey walls around him. With a long-suffering sigh, Obi-Wan lowered himself onto the edge of the bed.</p><p>He was never going to hear the end of this from Anakin.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Has Doctor Nema given any indication of how long I am to be kept in isolation?”</p><p>“No Master,” Anakin said. Only the top half of his torso was visible through the flexiglass barrier. Smudges of soot still covered his hands and face from helping Master Fisto clear the damaged factory. He had only been in the observation room for a few minutes after his return, and already he was munching his way through a nutribar. The boy never seemed to stop eating. “The doctor said that she needed to examine the other bodies we found in the wreckage. She…she seemed a little tense, Master.”</p><p>“Hmmm well, with the way today is going, she’s probably found some kind of new and horribly lethal virus that I’m now infected with. And I had hoped the next few weeks would be a little more relaxing. Never mind; how is the woman we found? Did she survive?”</p><p>“She’s in the iso-chamber right next to yours, Master…look,” Anakin said and, hitting a few buttons, a section of the room’s panelling flickered and then turned transparent, revealing an identical chamber of smooth grey walls and soft lights beyond his own. In the middle, lying on a medibed, was the outline of a pale-skinned human.</p><p>“Why isn’t she in a bacta tank?” Obi-Wan asked, moving closer to the glass. The woman appeared bare, except for her modest undergarments. Blistered, angry red burns almost wholly covered the arm visible to him, curling their way over her shoulder and chest. Smaller welts were peppered up her neck and along the side of her face and head. Her hair, which he had remembered as being a pale brown, was completely shaven off now.</p><p>“Doctor Nema said that she’d tried applying bacta, but there was a bad reaction to it,” Anakin replied. “I don’t think the doctor wants to do anything else until they know what went wrong.”</p><p>“And the ship?”</p><p>“The Temple engineers are looking over it at the moment, Master. They’re trying to compare the design to the ones stored in our Archives. They’re hoping to narrow down what system the spacecraft came from, but they’ve not found anything like an IFF, identichip or registration data.”</p><p>“Hmmm, that is unusual,” Obi-Wan said, considering the implications. It was near impossible to fly within the Core system in an unregistered ship. “I had thought you would be down there helping them out? It’s not like you to pass up an opportunity to pull apart a ship.”</p><p>“I just wanted to make sure you were alright, Master,” Anakin said through a mouthful of food, ducking his head a little. Obi-Wan felt a swell of affection run through him at the admission.</p><p>“Oh well, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” he replied with a smile, just as Doctor Nema walked into the observation room. “Ah, and just on time. I hope you didn’t find anything too concerning in your-”</p><p>Behind Doctor Nema, the Jedi Council members began entering the room. Master Yoda, sitting on his levipad, hovered between Mace Windu and Ki-Adi-Mundi. Anakin moved aside as the others filtered in, almost comically crammed into the rather small room.</p><p>“Why do I get the impression that you’re not here to deliver pleasant news, Doctor?” Obi-Wan said, a sinking feeling filling his stomach as the Jedi Masters turned to regard him.</p><p>“News, we have. Remains to be seen, it is, if good or bad,” Master Yoda said, exuding the kind of serene calm that revealed absolutely nothing of use.</p><p>“Doctor Nema was just informing the Council of a discovery she made while examining the woman you rescued. We need to observe her findings ourselves,” Master Windu added, and just like that, all eyes - including Obi-Wan’s - were directed towards the frail form in the opposite room.</p><p>As one, Obi-Wan felt the Council members reach out with the Force towards the unconscious figure; the strength of such focussed energy, even in passing, caused his skin to prickle. He had no idea what they could possibly be searching for. The woman gave off about as much presence as the rubble she’d been pulled from, so it was unlikely they’d be able to discern anything from her through the Force. Unease slowly began to ripple in the air, and then one by one the Masters withdrew their senses. There was a long period of silent reflection, as though no-one was willing to speak first.</p><p>“Perhaps she is unconsciously blocking our ability to sense her?” Depa Billaba said. “We have come across some species who have developed such abilities as a survival mechanism. Could it not be that she is simply the most advanced of her kind?”</p><p>“That doesn’t explain her blood scans,” Doctor Nemo replied, touching the control panel in front of her. The observation window lit up with the cellular analyser display; the glowing orange matrix representing the basic structures of a humanoid cell. There, clearly shown, was the vacuole, the lysosome, the round sphere of the nuclei nestled at the cell’s core…but where in the stars were the midi-chlorians?</p><p>“That’s impossible,” Obi-Wan said as he approached the observation window. “Perhaps the blood sample was contaminated in some way?”</p><p>“This sample was taken less than an hour ago, Master Kenobi,” Doctor Nemo confirmed. “I have run similar comparisons on the bodies recovered from the ship. There was no trace of midi-chlorians in any of the remains.”</p><p>“Midi-chlorians exist in all living things - this is one of the core truths of our universe. Is it not, therefore, more likely that she is simply an advanced form of synthetic life?” Master Mundi asked, his long fingers brushing through his tufted beard in contemplation.</p><p>Doctor Nema tapped the console a few more times, pulling up a full body display. “Her structure is entirely organic. A basic DNA scan gives a ninety-nine point eight-two percent match to another sample from our Archives. That sample,” she continued, pulling up the two strands of DNA on the screen, their glowing blue spirals side by side on the glass, “was taken from a native Coruscanti farmer before the collapse of the Old Republic, almost twenty thousand years ago.”</p><p>“Additionally,” she said after a long stretch of silence, and Obi-Wan wasn’t sure how much more ‘additional’ information he could get his head around, “there are several fascinating physical differences between this woman and a standard human. Several areas of her brain show marked divergence. For example, her hippocampus and cerebellum are almost a third of the size of a comparable Galactic human, indicating a significant impairment in her spatial and navigational awareness and skills. Her amygdala, however, is twice as large - likely indicating a more emotion driven learning and memory system. And that isn’t even touching on areas such as her heart and liver functions, bone density, the presence of vestigial organs which we’ve only ever speculated on as possibly being part of human evolution…” Doctor Nema stopped, shaking her head as she flicked aside the diagnostic visuals with a swipe of her hand.</p><p>“So,” Master Windu said, allowing the Doctor a moment to compose herself. “What does all this mean, exactly?”</p><p>“What does it mean?” Doctor Nema replied, running a hand over the sweeping cowl of her ceremonial headdress with a sigh. “It means that the very presence of the woman before us runs counter to everything we know about the formation of life in this universe. She exists outside of both the Living <em>and</em> Cosmic Force, yet shares biological markers and an evolutionary path almost identical to one of the most dominant species in the Galaxy. And that she is, perhaps, one of the greatest discoveries we’ve ever made – and I am afraid that I will be unable to keep her alive for much longer.”</p><p>“You think she’s dying?” Anakin blurted out from the other side of the observation chamber.</p><p>“Her injuries are extensive, but would normally be entirely treatable. However, her histamine reaction to the bacta we attempted to apply was so severe, we’ve had to  intubate her to prevent her from suffocating. It’s possible that any physical intervention could cause a similar reaction, from basic sedatives to antimicrobials for preventing infection.”</p><p>“Is there anything you need that could help you to keep her stable?” Plo Koon asked.</p><p>“Hmmm…well, I must admit, I could use the expertise of someone like Master Pelri - though I know that her methods are a little…unconventional,” Doctor Nema admitted with some reluctance.</p><p>“I believe she is currently off-world on a scientific expedition to the planet VK-3NJ67 near the outer-rim. Something to do with a form of sentient fungus,” Mace Windu replied.</p><p>“I wouldn’t want to be in the room if Pei Pelri ever found out that we had a medical marvel and didn’t inform her,” Obi-Wan said, trying to keep the amusement from his voice. He had known Pei since they were younglings, and just the thought of the Sullustan’s reaction to this discovery was almost enough to make it worth being quarantined for.</p><p>“Request the return of Master Pelri, we shall,” Yoda agreed. “Inform the Council, you will, of any further developments.”</p><p>“Yes Master,” Doctor Nema said with a bow, as the Council turned to leave the observation chambers. Anakin and Obi-Wan bowed low as the doors slid shut behind Master Billaba, leaving the remaining three to their thoughts. In the other room, the woman continued to lie motionless on the medibed, seemingly oblivious to the myriad of truths her very existence had shattered.</p><p>“She just looks so…ordinary,” Anakin said, echoing one of Obi-Wan’s own thoughts.</p><p>“Perhaps she is ordinary, wherever she is from,” Obi-Wan said. “Maybe we’d be the extraordinary ones in her world.”</p><p>“Well, I just hope Master Pelri will return soon. I would hate for our patient to wake up while we’re still without any form of applicable pain-killer,” Doctor Nema said.</p><p>“Oh, if I know Pei, she’ll be back here quicker than Anakin is to an evening meal,” Obi-Wan said, trying not to smirk at his padawan’s reaction to the teasing. “Speaking of which, how long will I be kept from my regular duties? When I had requested our extended leave in the Temple, I had not envisaged it stuck in an iso-chamber.”</p><p>“I shouldn’t imagine you’ll be here for very long Master Kenobi,” Doctor Nema said. “Luckily, your biology is far more predictable. We’ll continue to monitor your vitals for any indication of an infection but, all going well, you should be clear to return to your duties in a few days.”</p><p>“Well, I suppose that will give me ample opportunity for meditation - if nothing else,” Obi-Wan conceded. While the idea wasn’t entirely appealing, a few days of rest and meditation would probably do him good. It would also give Anakin a chance to train with the other apprentices.</p><p>“What will I do, Master?” Anakin asked.</p><p>“Oh, I have little doubt they’ll be plenty of things to occupy your time. I suggest you get cleaned up and get some sleep. It’s highly likely that Master Yoda will summon you tomorrow.”</p><p>“Will you be alright?”</p><p>“Yes, of course. Now off you go,” Obi-Wan said, shooing him away with a wave of his hand. “Oh, and do remember to get some proper food Anakin. Nutribars are for survival emergences, they are not a snack.”</p><p>“I will. Goodnight Master,” Anakin said with a slight bow, before he swept out of the room.</p><p>“Well, I suppose I should follow my own advice,” Obi-Wan said aloud to himself. He’d never spent much time in the iso-chambers before. It was an odd thought, going to sleep with the doctor observing him nearby. As if sensing his hesitation, Doctor Nema tapped a few buttons and the panel looking into the other chamber clouded over to a dull grey.</p><p>“I’ll leave you to rest, Master Kenobi,” she said with a smile, and then the observation window turned opaque, blocking her from view. Obi-Wan took a brief glance around the empty little room, which was now his for as long as he was stuck in here. Kicking off his boots and unbuckling his belt and lightsabre, Obi-Wan settled himself down on the padded bed and tried to clear his mind of everything today had revealed. There must be a reasonable explanation to it all, he thought. And if anyone could figure it out, it would be Pei Pelri. That is, if she didn’t spontaneously combust with enthusiasm when she heard the news. It was that image which managed to keep Obi-Wan suitably amused until he eventually fell asleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>There's a lot of medical stuff in here that I've mish-mashed together via wikipedia searches. I hope it makes some kind of sense, or at the very least sounds close enough to actual medical terminology to not pull everyone out of the story. If you are medically minded and are bothered by anything I've described, please let me know what it is and how best to fix it!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She was choking.</p><p>That was the first conscious thought Emily had as she started to come to. She tried to swallow down but something was jammed in her throat, blocking the contraction of her muscles. She gagged against it but it wouldn’t move, it just pulled painfully as her throat squeezed down in protest. She couldn’t breathe…oh sweet baby Jesus, she was going to die. Her left hand blindly found her mouth, but her right arm felt slow and heavy and she couldn’t feel her fingers move. The lights above her were blinding - a dizzy swirl of shapes and colours against her bleary eyes - as her palm touched against the cold metal sticking out of her mouth.</p><p>Numb fingers managed to get a grip on the slick sides and she tugged. It felt like she was ripping out her windpipe. She screamed - or tried to scream - everything was muffled around the metal in her throat and she kicked and gagged and felt a jolt as her side and head hit something hard. She couldn’t breathe; God, she just needed to breathe. She managed to get a grip on the metal, again, and this time she just pulled past everything. Past the tearing, screaming pain. Past the choking and gagging. The metal eventually slipped from her hand, clattering against the floor near her head as she just lay on her side and coughed and sobbed. She could taste blood as she gasped, but finally it felt like she could take a breath.</p><p>Emily could hear things now, too, over the pounding heartbeat in her ears. There was a high-pitched sound wailing in the air like a car alarm. Over it she could hear what sounded like voices - they were yelling things she couldn’t understand. Was she still in the plane? Was she being rescued? She tried to shout for help but her voice was raw and weak, and it all came out in a jumbled whimper. Get up! her voice screamed in her head. Stand up or they’ll not see you! She heaved and hauled and scrambled until her knees knocked hard against the floor, still coughing each breath into her lungs. She lifted her head to look around, but everything was a grey blur. Was she already in a hospital? Where were the other passengers?</p><p>She tried to push herself up on to her feet, but froze when she saw her arm. It didn’t make any sense. Her whole arm and hand looked huge; it was like an inflatable joke arm had been put over her own. It was mottled black and brown and an almost fuchsia shade of bright pink, the skin cracked and weeping. Emily pressed her left fingers against her inside elbow, the texture was strange - a sort of spongy wetness. She couldn’t even feel where her fingers were pushing down, her whole arm felt heavy and numb, like it wasn’t even attached. She tried to flex her hand, move her fingers - anything - but they barely twitched.</p><p>A sound coming from directly above her, drew Emily’s baffled gaze. It sounded like a Clanger had been shoved through a synthesizer. She looked up to see two orbs of aqua blue light staring down at her from half a meter away. The two ‘eyes’ were set into silver metal shaped like the grille on the front end of a car. Emily watched as the thing bobbed in front of her, whistling and buzzing, as three long metal arms reached out in her direction. When the cool press of the first claw touched her left arm, it was like a hypnotic spell had been broken.</p><p>She punched it. </p><p>Now, in her defence, Emily at this point was fairly certain she was in some sort of fever induced dream. She watched her fist, cracked and swollen and oozing blood, as it seemed to fly in slow motion - entirely out with her control - until it smacked the thing square in the middle of its metal face. The pain that exploded out of her hand and down her arm was so intense, she blacked out for a few seconds. </p><p>It was lovely. Peaceful, even.</p><p>Then suddenly all the noise and pain was back. Emily retched; whether it was from the broken hand or from all the screaming she just realised she was doing, was still unclear. She tried to stand up, but it was like her legs had been swapped out for cooked noodles. She kicked her way across the floor, using her left hand to claw herself along, making for the wall closest to her. When she was close enough to bump her shoulder, Emily leaned herself against the brushed metal, freeing up her hand to try and scrabble for purchase on its strange grooved panels. She needed to get up and run, because fuck knows where that floating metal thing had gone. There were still sirens and odd, disembodied voices all around her. She managed to use her weight against the wall to balance herself, slithering her way up until she was finally standing on shaking feet. </p><p>It hurt like hell to lean the right side of her face against the panelling, so she slowly turned until her left cheek was pressed on the cool surface, still struggling hard to fill her lungs through the tight grip of panic in her chest. When she opened her eyes, another set of blue eyes were looking back at her through a dull glass panel in the wall. These ones though, were entirely human. Emily hadn't even realised that she'd pushed herself off the wall until the bearded face started to tilt away from her. It was almost funny, watching his eyes widen as she began to tip, his hands reaching out as if he could grab her from through the glass. She twisted as she went down, and it was only in that millisecond before she hit the ground, that she realised she'd turned her body the wrong way. </p><p>Emily managed to groan out a "oh, fuck!" before her right arm hit the floor, and all her thoughts were replaced with pain.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the delay. I spilled juice on my keyboard and some of the keys stopped working. Got a new, shiny one now though!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Hmmm, I think that one will need to be moved over a little more Skywalker, or there won't be enough room for the other equipment," Doctor Nema said, motioning to the huge, glowing glass dome that Anakin had just barely managed to heave onto a workstation.</p><p>"What is half of this stuff even for?" Anakin asked, a sheen of sweat glistening on the fuzz of blonde hair covering his upper lip. He pushed, red faced and panting, until the dome was another meter or so back, and then muttered some rather colourful phrases under his breath, as he tried to free his braid from one of the complicated gears that adorned its base. Obi-Wan gave him a warning look when he heard a very distinct - and entirely explicit - reference to a Hutt's mother that would have made a Corellian spice runner blush. Obi-Wan's continuing attempts to train the junk trader out of his padawan sometimes felt like trying to push Murluch jelly up a mountain.</p><p>"I'm not entirely sure," Doctor Nema replied, thankfully too distracted to have picked up on the rest of Anakin's words. "I think most of these machines are of Master Pelri’s own invention."</p><p>“Your assumptions are correct,” replied the Jedi in question, as she waddled into the room, balancing a large stack of datapads in her arms. She dumped them, rather unceremoniously, onto the table, before casting a critical eye around the small chamber. “This equipment is incredibly specialised and highly sensitive - and <em>not</em> a toy to be played with,” the Sullustan added, tutting impatiently as she tugged Anakin’s braid free, before marching back out the door.</p><p>"Yeah, but did you have to invent them to be so heavy?" Anakin muttered as she left, using the edge of his tunic sleeve to wipe the moisture from his face.</p><p>"Struggling my young apprentice?" Obi-Wan asked, not even bothering to keep the amusement from his voice.</p><p>"No…" Anakin quickly replied. "I'm just not sure why Master Yoda has me moving boxes and not training with the other padawans."</p><p>"Oh, Master Yoda always has a good reason for everything he does," Obi-Wan said, uncrossing his legs from his meditation position on the bed. He slid onto his bare feet, stretching out his muscles with a sigh. It was tiring work, watching his apprentice lug equipment about. "Usually, you don't realise you have even learnt a lesson, until it ends up saving your life."</p><p>"And what kind of lesson am I learning moving lab equipment?"</p><p>"Perseverance. Determination. Humility," Obi-Wan listed off on his fingers. "Proper lifting technique…"</p><p>"Very...funny...Master," Anakin puffed between heavy breaths, as he struggled to lay out a staggeringly large slab of coloured vials and spiralling tubes. The observation room was quickly filling up with all manner of strange contraptions. Soon enough, there wouldn't be room to swing a Lothcat around.</p><p>“Do be careful with that, Master Windu. It’s incredibly fragile, and you’re carrying it like a one-handed Besalisk,” Obi-Wan heard Pei Pelri admonish. Both he and Anakin watched, wide-eyed, as Mace Windu was ushered into the room by the tiny Jedi. The usually stoic Master appeared to be struggling, as he grappled with an overly large - and unwieldy - hemocytometer. The look on Anakin’s face as he watched Mace Windu being bossed around, was as if all his name-days had come at once.</p><p>“I came down to enquire about your progress with the patient, Master Pelri. <em>Not </em>to carry equipment for you,” Master Windu said with a scowl, eventually giving up his struggle. The hemocytometer floated out of his hands and came to rest neatly on the table; his deft manipulation of the Force having always been something Obi-Wan greatly admired. Master Pelri dismissed Windu’s comments with a wave of her hand.</p><p>“Well, it’s not too much to ask that you at least be useful while your here. And as for the specimen-”</p><p>“-patient-” Doctor Nema corrected.</p><p>“-I would be far further along if my equipment had been set up in advance of my arrival, as I had requested,” Master Pelri finished.</p><p>“We can hardly be faulted for that, Pei. You must have invented something even quicker than FTL travel to get here so soon,” Obi-Wan said. “It takes at least thirty-six standard Coruscanti hours to journey back from the Outer Rim.”</p><p>“Only to those burdened with insufficient motivation and imagination,” Pei said, holding up a stubby brown finger. “And I had plenty of both; especially after reading through Doctor Nema’s initial reports. You have an uncanny skill for finding the most remarkable lifeforms, Obi-Wan. I wish my own discoveries were even a tenth as interesting as yours.”</p><p>“Yes well, given that the last pathetic lifeform I picked up became my padawan, I have been trying to avoid collecting more.”</p><p>“Hey-”</p><p>“Do you think you’ll be able to assist Doctor Nema with keeping her patient alive?” Master Windu cut in, likely in the hopes of not having to be subjected to any further banter.</p><p>“Undoubtably. In fact, I’ve already started working on the possibilities of a synthesized analgesic gel, using the specimen’s own protein profile as the basis from which to build on. I must admit, humans have not been a subject of interest to me previously. Your biology varies very little. I’m afraid to say that you are, frankly, an incredibly dull species to study.”</p><p>“Well, it’s hard not to be at least a little offended by that…” Obi-Wan said, trying to choke back his laughter. Pei Pelri’s blunt honesty could take a person out at the knees quicker than a lightsabre blade.</p><p>“But the absence of midichlorians in a living organism? Now that…that is fascinating!” she continued, oblivious to all the raised eyebrows around her.</p><p>“Let me know if you require any additional equipment or assistance,” Mace Windu said, shaking his head as he started to make his way towards the door. “Somehow, Chancellor Palpatine has become aware of how unique our patient appears to be. He’s requested to be kept up to date on her recovery.”</p><p>“As a matter of fact, I do require one other thing, Master Windu; thank you for reminding me,” Master Pelri said, tapping a few buttons on the control screen. Obi-Wan watched as the panelled walls separating his chamber from the other room split apart, rolling back until they disappeared entirely into the recesses at either side.</p><p>“Master Pelri, what in the stars are you doing!?” Doctor Nema asked, leaning forward to flip on the decontamination shield between the two rooms. The Sullustan, just as quickly, flicked the blue forcefield off.</p><p>“I need an assistant, and as the last one you sent in was not well received, I think it best that Obi-Wan fill the position. At least if the subject punches him, she may cause less damage to herself than she did with the droid.”</p><p>“What about the damage to me?” Obi-Wan asked, cautiously eyeing the woman in case she decided to leap up and test the assertion.</p><p>“I’ve seen you take an incalculably large number of punches when we were padawans, Obi-Wan, and they seem to have only caused you mild cognitive damage,” Pei said, her voice unironically thoughtful. “I’m sure you’ll tolerate a few more without any further degradation to your mental capacities.”</p><p>“How comforting,” Obi-Wan replied.</p><p>“It’s not physical damage that I’m concerned about,” Doctor Nema said. “You’ve seen the initial scans. The patient carried a number of unknown viral, bacterial and fungal contaminants, which we’ve not had sufficient time to study. This could expose Master Kenobi to any number of transmissible diseases.”</p><p>“He’s already been exposed for an extended period of time, if your report was correct, and he seems to be fine. Should he become infected with anything else, he will make an excellent base subject to build vaccinations from.”</p><p>Doctor Nema just stared, open mouthed, as Master Pelri started organising her datapads.</p><p>“I’m going to take my leave. Keep me updated on the situation, Doctor,” Master Windu said, clearly having had enough of the whole situation. He barely bowed as he quickly stepped out of the room.</p><p>“Yes, yes. Actually, I think it best that everyone leave. We’ve wasted far too much time with this useless chatter. I have biopsies to perform, cell cultures to grow and proteins to synthesize. There’s not a moment to lose.”</p><p>“I will leave to check on my other patients. Master Kenobi, please inform me immediately if you begin to feel unwell?” Doctor Nema said, giving Master Pelri a sceptical glance before she left the room.</p><p>“You had best check in with Master Yoda, Anakin. I’m sure he’ll have more tasks for you to complete this morning,” Obi-Wan said to his padawan. Anakin had been watching Pei with interest as she started to switch on her apparatus. The boy couldn’t resist machinery in any shape. He reluctantly drew his eyes away from the flashing lights and spinning nozzles, and gave a small bow.</p><p>“I’ll come back to visit at lunch time, Master. I can bring you something from the canteen,” he said, brightening up. The prospect of food always seemed to lift his spirits.</p><p>“Very well, run along with you,” Obi-Wan said, and watched as Anakin dashed from the room. Realising that he was just standing about with nothing to do, Obi-Wan settled himself back down on the medical bed, facing his new roommate. The woman had been silently lying there throughout the whole conversation. Not a sound or twitch had come out of her for hours. Obi-Wan hoped that she was only punch happy due to fear – and not as a default setting.</p><p>“I hope you know what you’re doing, Pei,” Obi-Wan said after a few minutes of silence. Master Pelri was deep into analysis now, her fingers flickering across several glowing diagrams, her cheekflaps twitching every so often as she concentrated.</p><p>“Of course I don’t,” she replied after a few seconds, her dark eyes glimmering as she reluctantly pulled them from her screen to meet Obi-Wan. Her gaze slowly drifted across to the woman on the bed. “That’s what makes it all so very exciting!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sun was so low in the sky, the reflection of it glittering across the sea was nearly blinding. Her skin felt hot and too tight. Emily pushed her feet through the sand, felt the grains of it between her toes. She was so thirsty - but in a detached sort of way - like she knew she should look for her water bottle, but the thought of moving seemed impossible. Something deliciously cool brushed over her arm and, looking down, she watched herself apply sunscreen over her freckled skin. As her fingers stroked over her bicep, her freckles began to peel away, dusting through the white cream like little specks of gold. Then her skin started coming off too - smearing blood over her palms. It was odd, Emily thought, but she didn’t stop. It felt so lovely and cold on her skin.</p><p>The sun really was too bright though. Emily blinked her eyes. They felt dry and gritty, like her eyelids were lined with sandpaper. When they opened, a flat grey ceiling slowly pieced itself together above her. Emily just stared at it, watching little motes of colour flicker and swirl around her eyeballs. Something was moving at the side of her; a tall shadow that shifted and wavered, blotting out the ceiling lights. She could feel something cool and wet pressed along her right side. She tried to speak, but her mouth was so dry, her jaw may as well have been welded shut.</p><p>“Boh-fleh-blah-dortetz,” a voice said, the shadow shifting until it totally filled her vision. Oh, it was that bearded guy from her dream, she realised, as his face went from soft focus to ultra HD. The one that watched her punch a robot with her inflatable arm.</p><p>Jesus, how utterly off her tits on painkillers was she?</p><p>Emily attempted to point at her mouth, swapping out to her left arm when her right one wouldn’t move. She tried to mime drinking from a glass, but instead, her hand just flopped about her face a bit. Beardy frowned down at her. She could hear other voices, and he turned his gaze from her as he answered them back.</p><p>“Kham-edhras-zo-selern-phta,” was the sound he made, smiling at her before disappearing from view. And what the fuck kind of language was that meant to be? Emily tried to figure out where she was. The plane hadn’t been in the air for long when they left Cape Verde, so maybe she’d been airlifted to a hospital on the West African coast? Or taken further up towards Morocco and Portugal? The words in the air around her sounded totally alien; not at all like the Creole she’d heard walking around the sun-baked resort. Wasn’t there about a billion languages spoken on the African continent? She really hoped that someone could speak English to ignorant foreigners, or she was royally fucked.</p><p>Beardy appeared again, this time holding out a twisted metal cup with what looked like a glass straw sticking out of it. He gently eased it into her mouth, and before she could get her throat to work, the thing spritzed a mist of water on her tongue.  She choked a little, more from surprise than anything else, but Beardy just waited patiently, saying nonsense sounds at her, before offering the drink again. It took a few attempts, but Emily eventually realised that if you sucked, the water would flow normally. She pushed the straw away after a few gulps. Her throat was still rough and aching, but she felt like she could manage a couple of words. Thing is, what the hell should she say?</p><p>“Hi,” she managed to croak out. “Do you speak English?”</p><p>A whole rabble of chatter filled the air at her question, but Beardy didn’t seem to be listening to it. He was just staring at her, a little frown crinkling his brow, as though he was almost as confused by the whole thing as she was. He said something - it sounded odd and clipped, like it came from the clicking of his tongue. Emily stared blankly back at him, which he seemed to take as a cue for making the oddest assortment of noises she’d ever heard. Some were high pitched and warbling. Others were ground out; like the beat of a drum. He would pause after each one, his blue eyes searching her face for a reaction, before he would continue. Emily wasn’t sure how long it went on for. Occasionally, other voices would cut in, making their own contributions to the medley of random sounds. Eventually, Beardy seemed to exhaust his verbal beatboxing. He turned from her, looking across the room at something that lay beyond her field of vision, and shook his head. That seemed to trigger a conversation that she wasn’t in a position to contribute to.</p><p>Emily opted to check out the room instead. It hurt like hell to move her head too much or too fast, so she just let it slowly droop to the side, until she could get a better view. The walls around her were exactly the same as in that weird-ass dream; smooth grey with grooved lines running across them. At points the lines would merge into strips of soft lighting, or screens that glowed blue with strange symbols she couldn’t make out from where she lay. She shifted her head the other way, and saw that the room opened out. There was another bed a fair distance from her own. Clothes lay neatly draped over the headrest. A pair of high, brown leather boots leaned against the brushed metal base. If this was a hospital, it wasn’t like any she’d ever seen before. It looked like something from the set of Dr Who.</p><p>She was done with lying down. Everything about this place was off. Where were the doctors and nurses? Why wasn’t she hooked up to a machine? Emily pushed herself up on to an elbow. Her right side was completely encased in a brilliant white wrap. The outside was shiny like moulded plastic, but when she moved her arm, it flexed and shifted like lycra, keeping smooth and tight against the skin. She could feel the spongy layer underneath; it felt like those squishy silicone pads you put in stiletto shoes to cushion your feet. Emily could feel it clinging to the side of her face and neck. Just how badly injured was she?</p><p>Beardy noticed her trying to get up. A calloused hand pressed down on her left shoulder, but she batted it off with a scowl, even more determined than before to get on her feet. He was talking to her – all warbling sounds – and slowly moved, so that when she had finally managed to sit up and swing her legs off the bed, his body was blocking her from standing. He was wearing the most complicated set of pyjamas Emily had ever seen, pale oatmeal in colour and wrapped in several layers around his body. His pale, bare feet stood out against the dark floor.</p><p>“Move,” she said, feeling her frustration bubble up from her stomach as he continued to body-block her, his hands either side of her shoulders as he attempted to press her back. Emily glared at him, feeling her growing anger burn in her lungs and against the back of her eyes. “I mean it - get your hands the fuck off of me.”</p><p>Maybe it was her tone - or maybe he actually did speak English - either way, Beardy eventually dropped his hands and moved to the side, not quite as far away as she would have liked, but not crowding her at least. Emily pushed herself to her feet, leaning heavily on the bed for support. Her legs looked an absolute riot. There wasn’t an inch of skin that wasn’t mottled with bruises or covered in scratches. A large gash trailed across her left thigh, puckered and scabbed over. The big toe on her right foot was bloodied and missing its nail. Emily’s head spun as she slowly took a full inventory of her body. They’d dressed her in plain white shorts and a cropped sleeveless top, and other than what was hidden by the bandages, the rest of her torso looked like she’d been tossed over the Niagara Falls in a barrel full of rocks. She took a little step forward, but her knees dipped under her, and she was only saved from a nose dive by the steady grip of Beardy’s hand at her elbow. She managed to make it to the nearest wall, her shadow silently keeping step beside her, before taking a brief moment to rest against the metal panels. If she looked this bad, had anyone else survived? She turned to ask Beardy that very question, but stopped short when she caught a glimpse of a window from just over his shoulder.</p><p>“What the actual…” Emily said, taking a few seconds for her brain to register the faces. She wrenched her elbow from Beardy’s grip, stumbling back from both him and the window that spanned the far wall of the room. There, behind a large stretch of glass, two people stood watching them, dressed in what looked like badly conceived Halloween costumes. The smaller one was wearing something that looked like a Mickey Mouse mask that had been melted in a microwave. The taller of the two had painted their skin a khaki yellow and wore a headdress that reminded her of King Tuts death mask. Beardy tried to approach her again, hands up and out like she was a spooked horse, but it was too late. She was fucking spooked alright, the adrenaline hitting her like a slap in the face.</p><p>“What is this place?” Emily said, gasping down her breaths to keep her heart from hammering out her chest. As she retreated back, Beardy kept pace following her. She looked around for something to defend herself with, but the room was empty. From the corner of her eye, she spotted the water bottle sitting on the bed. She made a grab for it before Beardy could stop her.</p><p>“If you come near me, I’ll pan your fucking face in, I swear to God!” she shouted, her newly won weapon gripped tight and held high in as threatening a manner as her left hand would allow. She wasn’t sure that she’d be able to do much damage with it, but if push came to shove, Emily would make sure they regretted kidnapping her.</p><p>“It’s like The Hostel isn’t it?” she continued, waving the bottle at the window. “Or that movie Saw? So, you’re what - some rich, sick fucks wanting to torture me? Playing mind games while you stand about in your masks and cosplay?”</p><p>Nobody said anything. Beardy kept looking helplessly at the weirdos behind the glass, as if she was somehow being the odd one here. Emily had seen enough movies to know that he was probably the ringleader who came up with this whole twisted thing. She trusted him even less than Melted Mickey and Goldfinger.</p><p>“Back off!” she screamed, when Beardy tried to edge closer again, but her voice broke to pieces against the jagged edges of her throat. She kept moving further back, inching along the wall until she hit a corner. Emily desperately tried to look for a door or a window or something that she could use to get out, but the whole room appeared seamless and whole.</p><p>Fine, she thought. If she couldn’t break out, then she’d hold them off for as long as she could. If they thought they’d chosen someone vulnerable and weak to mess with, Emily would show them why you never fuck with a Scot.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This was actually pretty hard to write, and I'm still not entirely happy with it. I did enjoy the swearing though. I also wasn't sure if I should give her a nationality or not, but the idea of the Jedi having to deal with an angry Scottish girl was just too amusing to pass up. It probably won't be mentioned too much, if you're the type that likes their OC's as ambiguous as possible. </p><p>Also, as a favour, they'll be other new characters in future chapters and I'm terrible at coming up with Star Wars themed names. So if you have any good canon sounding names - or suggestions for races - let me know. I can't guarantee that I'll use them, but any help with the terrible task of naming characters would be appreciated. x</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This was possibly the oddest stalemate Obi-Wan had ever found himself in.</p><p>“Perhaps, if we turn the observation window opaque, she may be less alarmed with our presence hidden?” Doctor Nema suggested.</p><p>“I doubt she’ll suddenly forget that she saw us,” Master Pelri replied. “I’m more intrigued by her reaction. The airship crashed on Coruscant, so they obviously must have passed through the numerous space-port checkpoints littered about the Galactic Core, to eventually arrive here. We can’t be the first non-human species she’s ever encountered.”</p><p>“I’m still not discounting the possibility that she was trafficked here for some reason,” Obi-Wan said, casting a curious eye over the woman. She was still huddled in the corner of the room, her eyes flitting back and forth between the Jedi. She had managed to stay on her feet for an impressive length of time, using the wall to prop herself up, but her exhaustion seemed to be winning against her fear, and the waterglass she’d picked up hung limp in her undamaged hand. “The vessel she was found in was far too small to be a standard transporter for the number of people it carried. Speaking of which, have we heard anything back from the engineers assigned to examine it?”</p><p>“That was something I had tasked your apprentice with, Obi-Wan,” Master Pelri said. “Though if he’s anything like you were as a padawan, he’s probably forgotten already, and is currently off eating the Temple kitchens out of food.”</p><p>“As much as I hate to admit it,” Obi-Wan replied, smothering a grin, “you may not be too far off in your assessment, Pei. We should send out a summons for him. If I were to bet, though, I’d wager you’ll more likely find him up to his elbows in wires and datachips, than in Surrulean stew.”</p><p>“I’ll send out the summons,” Doctor Nema said, exiting the observation room.</p><p>“Perhaps I could formulate a sedative?” Master Pelri mused, fiddling with a dial on one of her many complicated contraptions. “The analgesic bandages appear to be a success; with no histamine reaction on application. I’m sure I could create a sedative, using everything I’ve learned of her biology so far. It would be much more convenient if we could keep her fully unconscious for the duration of my studies.”</p><p>“If we knock her out just to experiment on her, we may never earn her trust,” Obi-Wan replied. “We need to find a way of communicating with her. Once we can establish what planet and system she’s from - and how she got here - we can find a way to return her to her people.”</p><p>In the back corner of the room, the woman drooped a little further down the wall. Obi-Wan winced in sympathy as he watched her punch down on the cut across her leg - groaning out a short, sharp sound - obviously with the hope of using the pain to keep herself alert.</p><p>“We’ve ran every audio sample of her speech through our protocol droids, but they’ve not managed to match it to any language currently held in our Archives,” Master Pelri said. “I’ve programmed them to search for any linguistical commonalities that may point to a shared root language, but with the limited processing power I have access to, it could take a while.”</p><p>“Well then, we’ll just have to do it the old-fashioned way,” Obi-Wan said, drawing himself up onto his feet. They’d been sitting around, passively watching her struggle, for far too long. The woman straightened up immediately when he moved, the waterglass raised in a trembling hand as she eyed him with suspicion.</p><p>Obi-Wan took two steps forward, palms out. It was enough to draw her full attention, while still staying out of striking distance. He had seen her right hook, and would rather not find himself on the receiving end of it.</p><p>“Obi-Wan,” he enunciated, slowly, as he indicated to himself. “Pei Pelri,” he added, pointing to the Sullustan Jedi behind the window. Obi-Wan opened his hand out, indicating to the woman that it was her turn. The silence stretched as she glared back at him. Obi-Wan swallowed down a sigh, and repeated his introductions again, giving her - what he hoped was - an encouraging smile. After a few seconds of consideration, she barked something at him, short and sharp, and Obi-Wan had the sneaking suspicion it would burn his ears off, if it was ever translated. This was going to take him forever.</p><p>“Master!” he heard Anakin say, and turned just in time to see his padawan nearly topple Pei Pelri over as he rushed into the room. Behind him, Doctor Nema and a medi-droid followed in his wake. Anakin muttered out a quick apology to Master Pelri.</p><p>“Definitely like you as a padawan,” Pei said, gathering together her scattered datapads.</p><p>“What in the blazes kept you so long?” Obi-Wan asked, approaching the observation window to get a better look at his eager-eyed apprentice. “Master Pelri said she’d asked you to fetch a report on the crashed ship.”</p><p>“I did as Master Pelri asked,” Anakin replied, still a little out of breath. “Then I had an idea.”</p><p>“Oh? And what kind of idea did you have that was important enough to delay a direct request from a Master?”</p><p>“Well, the engineers told me that the ship we found wasn’t like anything they’d seen before. They said that there was no way it was capable of spaceflight.”</p><p>“Wait,” Obi-Wan interrupted. “That doesn’t make any sense. You and I both witnessed it entering the planet’s atmosphere.”</p><p>“I know, Master, but the engineers are certain. There was no oxygen based atmospheric system on board. The combustion engine is at a pre-FTL level of technology. They have no idea how it managed to breach the outer atmosphere.”</p><p>“So why didn’t you come and tell us that?” Obi-Wan asked.</p><p>“Well, I figured, if the ship and the Temple Archives can’t tell us where she’s from, I thought maybe she could?”</p><p>“Given how poorly my own attempts at speaking with her have been,” Obi-Wan said, scrubbing a hand through his beard, “I’m afraid that we’ll all be old and grey before we can get that sort of information from her.”</p><p>“Yeah, but I thought, if we could get a protocol droid, I’d be able to update it’s programming to help us. The only problem is - the Requisitions Master wouldn’t let me borrow a droid, since that thing that happened the last time,” Anakin said, his expression sheepish.</p><p>“What <em>thing</em> was that?” Master Pelri asked.</p><p>“Oh, you know, the usual <em>thing</em> that happens when Anakin plays around with droids,” Obi-Wan said. “Rampaging mayhem. Fire. Master Mundi left with half a singed eyebrow.”</p><p>“I take it back Obi-Wan,” Pei said, amusement colouring her voice. “He’s far more interesting than you were as a padawan.”</p><p>“When I was in the requisition room,” Anakin continued, “I saw that the medi-droid the woman had hit yesterday was still in the decontamination area, waiting to be cleaned. So, I asked if I could clean it up and bring it back here.”</p><p>“Failing to mention that you were going to do more than just return it to the medical station, I presume?” Obi-Wan asked, already knowing the answer.</p><p>“Well, I did bring it back, right?”</p><p>“What else did you do?” Obi-Wan said, unable to contain his sigh.</p><p>“I upgraded it’s programming with the same communication protocols I put into C3PO, when I was a kid. He was way more advanced that the standard models. I also installed a holo projector into its front casing and a map reader into the top cranial panelling,” Anakin said.  “If she can’t tell us where she’s from, Master - maybe she can show us.”</p><p>“That’s actually a clever idea,” Master Pelri said. “Even if she could only give us a vague indication, it’s more than we have to work with now.”</p><p>“I’m not so sure,” Obi-Wan said, eyeing the gleaming silver plates of the medi-droid, as it bobbed at its spot near the door. “She did try to damage it the last time it was in the room.”</p><p>“That’s only because it touched her," Anakin reasoned. "She probably thought it was attacking. It doesn’t need to be near her to project a star map.”</p><p>“I think it could be worth trying,” Doctor Nema said. “At the very least, it can’t take us any further back than where we are now.”</p><p>“I agree,” Master Pelri said.</p><p>“Alright” Obi-Wan conceded, knowing when he was outvoted. “But when you’re explaining to the Requisition Master why you’ve returned with another mangled droid; don’t say I didn’t warn you.”</p><p>Obi-Wan stepped back from the observation room door. He saw that the woman was tight with tension, poised like she was ready to run or fight. A fine sheen of sweat covered her skin, soaking into the white coverings on her body. Obi-Wan could only guess at how much effort it took for her to keep on her feet - she must have been exhausted.</p><p>The woman may not have known what they were discussing, but she obviously could sense that something was about to happen; she held the waterglass in a white-knuckled grip. The seam in the wall where the door was concealed, split open with a gust of air. A blue contamination field flickered across the threshold, and with a command from Anakin, the medi-droid bobbed through the doorway and into the room. At the sight of the robot, the woman choked on a gasp, scrabbling back against the wall like she was trying to disappear into it. Her whole body was trembling as she stared, wide eyed and pale faced, at the droid.</p><p>“Maybe we shouldn’t…” Obi-Wan started to say, but the lights in the room were already dimming, and a second later, the panel on the top of the medi-droid’s head opened up, revealing the glass globe of a starmap. A burst of light exploded out; as beautiful and wonderous as the first spark of the universe’s creation. All the stars of the galaxy swirled through the dim air, the planets dancing in step around them.</p><p>The woman stretched out her injured hand, watching the bright points of light trail their path across her skin. Then suddenly, it was like all the knots that tied her together, unravelled, all at once. She slid to the floor, landing with a thud, her body curled over as she wrapped her hands around her legs and buried her face against her bruised knees.</p><p>“Turn it off,” Obi-Wan barked at the droid. The stars winked out as quickly as they had appeared. The woman was crying. Huge, heaving sobs shuddered through her body. Obi-Wan hunched down, slowly inching his way across the room towards her. As concerned as he was about frightening her further, he just couldn’t stand aside and do nothing.</p><p>“I’m sorry Master!” Anakin’s voice said over the speaker, filled with worry.</p><p>“It’s alright,” Obi-Wan said, his voice low and hushed, as he stopped within an arm’s length of the woman. He honestly wasn’t sure who he was consoling more; his apprentice or the poor creature in front of him. “You’re safe. No-one will hurt you here. I promise you; you are safe.”</p><p>Obi-Wan gently brushed a hand over her undamaged shoulder - the skin under his fingers was icy cold, even in the warmth of the room. She flinched a little from his touch; another sob wracking through her, tears trailing tracks down the pale line of her cheek, but she didn’t resist when he gently eased his arms around her. He sat with her like that, until she finally tucked her body against his chest and her tears had utterly soaked through his tunic.</p><p>“Ee-ma-lee” she whispered into the hollow of his shoulder, before he felt the loose slump of her limbs, as her exhaustion gave way to sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fuck Elon Musk, was all Emily could think, as she retched into the oddly shaped bowl tucked into her lap.</p><p>This had to be him.</p><p>It all made sense, right? The Star Trek walls with their glittering lights and displays. The cosplayers stood behind the glass; always watching. The actual fucking <em>flying </em>robots. What else could this be, but some underground lab built by a weird, fetishist billionaire? And they didn’t come any weirder than the utter fruitcake called Elon Musk. He probably kidnapped people from disasters all the time; hoping they’d just be written off as tragic losses, with no additional effort put in to finding them.
Would her own family accept that excuse? Would they still look for her? What was her mum thinking right now - did she still have any hope? What had her brother told her nieces and nephews? Auntie Em is dead kids; no more sleepovers and cat-shaped pancakes and long mornings huddled together under blankets watching Youtube. Would they just accept it and forget her? Would she eventually forget them?</p><p>The bowl was eased out of her hands, and Emily realised that she was so caught up in her thoughts, she had just been sitting there, crying into the thing. A constant leak of tears had steadily dribbled down her face ever since her earlier breakdown. It was like she’d busted the off switch on her tear ducts.  It wasn’t helped by the fact that she was so hungry now, it was getting harder and harder to focus on anything else. Everything they’d given her to eat so far - including that last weird stick of stuff that tasted like egg yolk and smelled of watermelon - had made her horribly, wretchedly ill. If Elon Musk was wanting to test food for his Mars colonization or whatever, then he was doing a terrible job. If they sent folk up there with the crap they’d been feeding her so far, those astronauts would just be living in a floating tin can of vomit and shit for the rest of their lives.</p><p>A water bottle was pushed into her hands. She looked up to see the ever present Beardy…no wait - Ben - as she’d now dubbed him, after several failed attempts to pronounce the jumbled mess of sounds that was his name. It was close enough to the noises he had made, and it didn’t make her sound like she’d just had a stroke. <em>Ben</em>, however, hadn’t seemed too enthused at the new nickname - not that he spoke enough English to argue with her. Although, at the frankly alarming rate he was currently learning - he’d be fluent in under a month.</p><p>“Drink,” he encouraged, the word sounding odd in his strange, clipped accent. She did as asked; the water helped to clear out the bitter taste of bile from her mouth. Ben turned from her and walked over to the big window, opening a slot and depositing the bowl of her deposits inside. Emily didn’t want to think about what they did with that. Turning back, he looked down over his pyjamas with a sigh. He hadn’t quite managed to get the bowl to her in time, and Ben had found himself on the receiving end of her first volley. She’d feel worse about it - if he hadn’t been the one who had encouraged her to eat, against her misgivings, in the first place.</p><p>“I clean in…” he paused, and then said a word in his own language.</p><p>“Toilet. Bathroom. Restroom. Lavatory. Shitter,” the <em>flying</em> robot in the corner of the room suggested, listing off in its staticky voice the myriad of names she’d use to describe what went for a bathroom in this place. Ben seemed to mull the options over.</p><p>“…restroom,” he settled on, with a small smile. Emily couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. He had an uncanny ability to avoid all of her favourite phrases.</p><p>With a strange little half-bow that everyone seemed to do to each other, Ben walked towards the wall nearest his bed. He waved a hand over a recessed light, and the panelling slid seamlessly back, revealing a clean, empty bathroom beyond. Emily wondered if there were other rooms hidden behind the walls, and what they might contain. More toilets? Wardrobes full of sci-fi costumes and facepaint? Kitchens where they mashed egg yolks and watermelon together like it was a fucking valid culinary idea?</p><p>The door whooshed shut behind Ben, and Emily was once more left alone in the room. Her stomach had thankfully settled, but a pounding headache was starting to drum out a beat behind her eyes. She peered over at the window. The only person there, for now, was the boy. Emily had no idea what he had to do with any of this. He was tall and a little gangly looking, like he’d just had a recent growth spurt and was still trying to figure out how he fit into his body. He’d appear and disappear at certain times throughout the day, like he was always in a rush, and would spend whatever time he had chatting with Ben or the others. Though they didn’t look much alike, there was something about the dynamic and the familiarity between Ben and the boy, which made Emily think that they were closely related. She’d seen the exasperated looks Ben often gave him, and the fondness that lingered on his face when the boy eventually dashed off. It reminded Emily of how she felt about her nieces and nephews; they drove her to distraction most of the time, but she just loved them all the more for it.</p><p>Emily caught her reflection in the window and winced, reflexively bringing a hand up to trail over the shorn skin on her head. She had always wondered if she could pull off the bald look - and the faint outline in the glass confirmed that she definitely couldn’t. The strange gel bandage that covered almost the entire right side of her face, like a phantom of the opera style mask, probably didn’t add much either. Emily ran her fingers over the edge of the bandages, circling around her eye socket, curving down along her cheek. A small, solitary burn mark stood out, swollen and red on the side of her nose. Was that what the rest of her face looked like? Emily grabbed the top edge of her bandage and started to peel it off. She needed to see what it looked like under there. The boy motioned to her, shaking his head and saying something in his own tongue.</p><p>“Stop! No touch,” the robot said, it’s eye lights flashing amber.</p><p>Emily ignored them both. The material peeled back with ease, tugging only lightly on the skin underneath, a layer of gel still remaining behind, slick and glistening in the light. When she’d pulled the bandages down to her jawline, she stopped; the wet curl of white fabric slipping from her numb fingers. Emily felt like her mind couldn’t comprehend what her eyes were seeing. She skimmed over it all, again and again; the deep puckered gouges, the smaller rust-red marks scattered like splotches of paint flicked from a brush, the raised ropes of burnt flesh that crept like vines, curling up from her neck to cup along her jaw. She took in the whole of her face; it was unrecognisable. She didn’t know this Emily.</p><p>She quickly scrabbled to claw off the rest - fingers shaking as she tore at the edges that moulded over her neck and shoulder. The boy yelled something. The robot whirled and repeatedly blared the word “Stop!”, in an off-beat to the blood pounding in her ears and thrumming in her chest. The gel made her fingers fumble and slip. She couldn’t feel anything that touched the raw, gnarled skin; not the pressure of her fingers or the scratch of her nails. A damp hand clamped over her wrist; the grip too strong for her to fight against.</p><p>“Emily, stop!” she heard, close to her ear. “Stop. Please.”</p><p>She was panicking now, eyes blurring as she was led away from the window. Hands pressed her down until she was sitting. It felt like she couldn’t get her lungs to work properly, like every breath she took dissipated as soon as she sucked it in. Her heart was beating so fast she felt sick. Emily stared down at the rough hands engulfing her own; all of her focus bent on pulling in oxygen. The thumping rhythm of her heart slowed. Her chest eventually decompressed, and the fuzzy haze of her head cleared. Ben looked back at her through a wet tangle of auburn hair plastered to his head, blue-grey eyes soft with sympathy. He let go of her hands and started to smooth down the white bandages once again, section by section covering up the ruined skin.</p><p>Reality started to piece itself back together. The robot had stopped blaring. Emily could hear the sound of the boy’s voice, mixed with the familiar questioning tone of the cosplayers. They must have returned at some point during the commotion. Ben, she realised, was dressed in only his pyjama bottoms - his skin still damp. He must have rushed out from having a shower. He shifted, and she felt her breath stick in her throat.</p><p>Ben’s torso wasn’t just scarred; it was mauled. Layer upon layer of pale slashes and raised burns crisscrossed his chest and arms. Some were the bloodless white of old injuries, while others still had the raw pink and red edges of new trauma. A gouged crater lay just below his clavicle, and not even thinking, Emily reached out a finger to trace the dip in his skin. Water had gathered in it, dripping down her fingertip. Ben paused in his ministrations around her ear.</p><p>Was this why she was taken from the crash? Was this why Ben was in here with her? Were they collecting the most damaged and scarred people they could find - and for what? To conduct tests? To treat them? To scar them more? Ben pulled her hand away from his body, and she looked up to find him regarding her back. Emily couldn’t guess what he was thinking. Worse, she had no way to ask. She needed to speak with him; to find out what was going on – and to find a way to escape. Because whatever this was, she hadn’t asked for it, and now she was beginning to suspect that Ben hadn’t either. Was that why they kept the boy here? To keep him from escaping? To keep him compliant?</p><p>“Sorry,” Emily whispered, taking back her hand. He held her gaze for a few seconds longer, before turning back to fix the bandages on her face.</p><p>Emily was going to find out what was going on, she was going to find a way to communicate with Ben, and then they were all going to get the fuck out of here. Until then, she’d play nice with the cosplayers, and would choke down whatever excuse for food they gave her - but when the time came, she was getting the hell out of this place, and the minute she was out, she was going to expose their sick operation to the rest of the world.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Contrary to what you might think, I don't actually have any real feelings towards Elon Musk - be they good or bad, lol. He just seemed the likeliest billionaire to build some kind of James Bond volcano base or something. At least, that's what Emily thinks.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I have completely reformulated the amino acid structure to align exactly to Emily’s nutritional requirements, and have modified the consistency to one more easily broken down and utilised by her digestive track. I have also extracted all extraneous volatile compounds to negate any possible adverse reactions to odour or flavour.”</p><p>“So…it’s mush?” Anakin asked, peering through the glass at the newly unsealed food container Obi-Wan had just retrieved from the transfer hatch. His padawan pulled a face at its contents and then shot a sympathetic look over Obi-Wan’s shoulder.</p><p>“It’s a fully comprehensive nutritional protein paste designed to be entirely compatible to Emily’s unique physiology,” Master Pelri said, her tone edging from mild reproval to offense.</p><p>Picking up a spoon, Obi-Wan turned to where Emily was sat, huddled slightly in the corner with a grim set to her mouth, as she eyed the steel bowl with the wariness of a hunted animal. Repressing a sigh, Obi-Wan tried to put on his most encouraging smile as he slowly crossed the room, easing down until he was crossed legged in front of her, close enough that his knee almost bumped her own. Trying not to grimace, he brought a spoonful of the slightly grey, semi-gelatinous paste up to his nose. A brief sniff confirmed Pei’s removal of all volatile compounds. It smelt bland with a hint of saline. Taking a deep breath, he shoved a spoonful of the mixture into his mouth. It was lukewarm, glutinous and didn’t seem to change in texture as he chewed it. He swallowed it down in one try, though it left a sticky residue that coated his mouth.</p><p>“Well?” Anakin asked through the speaker. He had just returned from sparring lessons with Master Plo Koon, and was still bright-eyed with the enviable energy of youth.</p><p>“It’s tasteless and odourless mush alright,” Obi-Wan confirmed, trying to clean some of the film off of his teeth with his tongue.</p><p>“<em>Nutritious</em> tasteless and odourless mush, Obi-Wan,” Pei’s voice piped up from where she was observing next to Anakin. The slight bite to her voice said - in no uncertain terms – that she was entirely offended and utterly exasperated by the two of them.</p><p>“More importantly,” Pei continued in clipped tones. “I believe it is something she may finally be able to eat without incurring a violent negative reaction.”</p><p>“I do hope so,” Obi-Wan sighed, holding the bowl and spoon out to Emily, who had been watching his every reaction with sharp-eyed attention. This was the seventh attempt at having her try to eat something. The first six had led her to being almost instantly, violently ill and Obi-Wan would - frankly - rather be tossed alive into a Sarlac pit without his lightsabre, than have to bear another day of desperate attempts to soothe the poor woman, as she heaved and sobbed until there was nothing left but bile. At this point, he wasn’t sure what was more torturous; the ongoing attempts to feed her - or watching the horrifically fast progress of Emily’s own body cannibalising itself in an attempt to heal her injuries. It had only been six days since she’d first awakened, but already sharp lines and protruding bones were beginning to form under her thin clothes, and a hungry shadow had hollowed out her eyes and cheeks.</p><p>Emily cautiously took the bowl, the now constant tremor in her hands causing the spoon to rattle along the metal rim. She cradled it in her lap, scrutinising the contents with a growing expression of tired resignation. Obi-Wan tried to say a few words of encouragement in her native tongue. ‘Please eat food,’ he encouraged. Emily looked up long enough to give him a frown of confusion - and really, he was trying his best to learn the complicated language - before directing a glare back down to the bowl, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth as she pushed the contents around with the spoon. Slowly, she raised a small lump of the quivering paste and then, eyes closed, she slid it into her mouth.</p><p>The room was silent and utterly breathless with tension as she chewed. Obi-Wan had never been so invested in watching another person consume food before; was never so entirely absorbed in observing each flicker of expression and in counting each shaking breath. It probably didn’t help that Emily was a ridiculously expressive person. Obi-Wan didn’t need to sense her in the Force to know what she was feeling; it was played out so clearly on her face, that he felt like he was experiencing everything alongside her. She chewed for a few seconds before attempting to swallow the spoonful. It took her two tries before it was down, and she needed the help of several mouthfuls of water, while Obi-Wan steadied the trembling glass in her hands. They all waited, silent and hopeful, eyes searching for the tell-tale signs of her stomach rejecting the offering. After what felt like an eternity, Emily finally let out a long breath, the tight tension in her back loosening as she slumped a little. The room suddenly echoed with a triumphant whoop of elation from Anakin over the speakers. A little twitch - just the barest ghost of a smile - touched Emily’s lips at the sound, and Obi-Wan felt his own smile break out in mutual relief.</p><p>“Excellent,” Pei said, the satisfaction in her voice almost palpable. “I’ll have our technician’s put this formulation into production straight away. I recommend small but frequent meals throughout the day at first, to allow me to monitor Emily’s vitals; but I must say, this is exciting progress.”</p><p>“I’m going to go tell Doctor Nema!” Anakin said, rushing out of the observation room.</p><p>“That padawan of yours has far too much energy,” Pei said, a hint of fondness in her voice.</p><p>“Yes - but it is said that training a padawan helps one to stay youthful. Perhaps you should take another?” Obi-Wan suggested, a little cautiously. Pei’s hands stilled, for just the barest fraction of a second, as Obi-Wan carefully observed her. Pei was hard to read - even for a Jedi - but Obi-Wan had known her long enough to translate every pause or twitch. She shook her head, as if clearing away her thoughts, and her dark eyes were sharp when she looked at him.</p><p>“That theory is hardly supported, given the growing number of grey hairs on your head, now is it?” Pei replied, her voice carefully neutral. “Anyway, I have too much to do without someone constantly under my feet, messing with my equipment.”</p><p>Obi-Wan was about to argue back, but a little tap on his shoulder pulled his attention away. Emily was looking at him expectantly, the empty food bowl tucked into her lap, spoon held an inch from his shoulder. For a dread-filled half second, he thought she was going to be sick and was steeling himself for another change of robes; but instead, she tilted the spoon in the direction of the medi-droid and asked, “Learn more?” in a passible attempt at Galactic Basic.</p><p>“You seem to have found yourself at least one eager student,” Pei remarked.</p><p>“It is a pleasant change from the norm,” Obi-Wan replied, giving a nod and smile of agreement to Emily. “M3L1,” he called, the droid lighting up from standby mode at the sound of its designation. “Please activate holographic image display and resume language training protocol EL527.”</p><p>M3L1 floated over at the command, stopping about a meter away from where they sat. Emily dropped the spoon into the bowl and, pushing it aside, shuffled around to give the droid her full attention. Obi-Wan was pleased to note a significant change in Emily’s attitude in the last few days. She was now utterly focused on learning; eager to fill the hours she wasn’t asleep with acquiring a knowledge of Basic, and in teaching her own tongue. This focus also seemed to have rubbed off on her emotional state too. She was less hostile now - which was a massive relief - and had become far more compliant in the small day to day requirements asked of her. She didn’t flinch when he needed to touch her; whether that was to take a daily blood sample or change over her bandages. In fact - he’d even managed to make her laugh one day, all be it unintentionally, when he was trying to show her how the shower worked, and had accidentally hit the button for powdered clay and not water. The sound of her laughter, as he tried to cough and sneeze through a face full of powder, was like sunshine gleaming through a storm-darkened sky; both lovely and compelling, in spite of its fleetness. Obi-Wan was certain that, soon enough, they’d be able to glean the information needed to locate her home-world.</p><p>“Pass,” he heard Emily say, and was pulled from his thoughts in time to see a holographic image of a Tauntau before it flickered away, and was replaced by a Felucian Yerdua plant. After a moment puzzling over the image, Emily replied tentatively with, “flower?” which Obi-Wan noted her using as a catch-all term for anything with a bloom. And so, they went on like that, image after image flickering in the air before them and, more often than not, Emily dismissing it away with a “pass”. When he noticed her growing irritation at being unable to identify the images, Obi-Wan stopped the program, and started up the one Anakin had made especially for her.</p><p>“M3L1, please initiate custom learning programme 4297,” Obi-Wan instructed.</p><p>“Initiating now,” the droid confirmed, and immediately the image of a hulking Jotaz was replaced by three familiar looking people. Crude models of Emily, Obi-Wan and Anakin passively stood next to each other. They were only basic representations; the only way Obi-Wan knew which one was him was due to the beard. Anakin’s model was distinguished by the short hair and braid. Emily was shaven and with an outline that indicated her bandages. Initially, Obi-Wan had been worried that she would be offended by the image - he remembered her long, pale brown hair from when he’d first found her. “Me?” she had asked, pointing to the hologram and when Obi-Wan nodded, she ran her hand over the image and smiled, a little sadly.</p><p>“Let’s try having Model-B lift up and pass a red ball to Model-E,” he said, and watched as a red ball appeared in the tiny hologram Obi-Wan’s hands. “I pass the red ball to you,” Obi-Wan said in English, focusing on the correct word order.</p><p>Emily was silent, her focus on the image in front of them. “You pass ball of red to me?” she said back, haltingly, in Basic.</p><p>Obi-Wan smiled - she really was coming along quickly - and clarified the phrase in Basic, “You pass the red ball to me.” Emily repeated it back, mimicking the glottal stop she’d missed the first time. They said it back and forth a few times, Obi-Wan trying out the seemingly endless number of periphrases that Emily’s language contained. Give. Pass. Hand. Each of them used in a number of other contexts. He could ‘<em>give </em>Emily a <em>pass</em>” meaning that he wouldn’t acknowledge her, or ‘<em>give</em> Emily <em>a hand</em> to <em>pass</em> something along’ but not in the literal sense of chopping off his hand and presenting it for her use. Luckily, the medi-droid picked up everything Emily said, and had already amassed a sizable lexicon - given the short amount of time since they had commenced this language exchange. Even if they managed to find Emily’s home before he had fully learned her language, Obi-Wan hoped that the databanks would have enough to allow him to continue studying it into the future. He may even have the pleasure of using it years from now, on her home-world, should he ever get the chance to visit her there.</p><p>They spent a few hours this way; relaying the actions of their little figures. The holograms threw sticks and shared meals, dropped cups and picked up chairs before sitting in them. Eventually, Emily started to lose focus, yawning through her words. Obi-Wan shut down the droid and pointed to her bed. “You should sleep,” he suggested in English. Emily for once didn’t push back, she just nodded and scrubbed a hand over her eyes. Obi-Wan helped her to her feet, watching her wince as she massaged her calves. They had been caught up in training for longer than he had anticipated, and both of them appeared to be stiff from sitting for an extended period. Master Pelri spoke, just as Emily was about to bury herself under the covers of her bed.</p><p>“I’ll need a blood sample - preferably before Emily falls asleep,” Pei said. Emily stopped at the mention of her name.</p><p>“A moment,” Obi-Wan said in English and, walking over to the transfer hatch, he retrieved the analysis disk Pei had dropped inside. Emily already had her arm out when he turned around, which managed to illicit a chuckle from him.</p><p>“If you could take the sample from one of her wounds this time, Obi-Wan,” Pei said. “I want to see if her body has started to utilise the digested food to promote healing.”</p><p>“Right arm, please,” Obi-Wan requested, and Emily dutifully raised that limb instead. He pushed aside the bandage at her wrist, careful to only expose a small amount of blistered skin. Luckily the anaesthetic gel meant there was no discomfort when the little disk pinched away a sample of her blood and tissue. Obi-Wan briefly rubbed his thumb over the spot, before catching the mindless reflex, though not before smearing a layer of gel over his thumb. He covered over the burn mark, giving Emily a nod. “All done,” he confirmed.</p><p>Obi-Wan watched as Emily practically face-planted into her pillows, pulling up the sheets until she was just a little mound of soft silver-grey blanket. Obi-Wan deposited the disk back in the hatch, rolling the tight muscles in his shoulders as he pressed the release button.</p><p>“Could you dim the lights to thirty-five percent, Pei?” Obi-Wan asked. “I think I’m going to run through a few Form drills, and try to loosen out my muscles.”</p><p>“First it’s muscle stiffness. Then it’s ocular degeneration…and before you know it, your eating stewed muaroot and complaining about how all the younglings nowadays just never behave like they did back in your time,” Pei teased.</p><p>“If you take out the eyesight and muaroot, that’s exactly what I’m like already, Pei,” Obi-Wan said, muffling his laugh so as to not disturb his roommate. The Sullustan smirked back, loading the little disk into one of her contraptions.</p><p>“Born an old man, I’ve always said it,” Pei agreed.</p><p>Obi-Wan moved to the side of the room. Barefooted, he ran through the Form I and Form III stances, letting his body fall into the familiar moves. It was easy to slip into the Force this way, to feel it flow through and around him. In the Living Force, each second was a lifetime; every heartbeat the birth, life and death of a whole galaxy of beings. He was just one insignificant speck - and at the same time - he was everything. A feeling of unease shimmered over him, drawing him out of the vastness of the Force.</p><p>“Did you catch your skin on the sample disk, Obi-Wan?” Pei asked, her voice filled with the unease he’d felt in the air. Obi-Wan opened his eyes, letting his limbs fall into a neutral position.</p><p>“No,” he replied, thinking back to when he took it. “I took a sample from a burn wound, just as you asked.”</p><p>“Hmmm, it must have been contaminated. I’m going to need you to take another when Emily wakes up.”</p><p>“What do you mean conta-” Obi-Wan started to ask, but he was cut off when the observation room door opened, with Masters Windu and Billaba stood in the entry way, the short blonde hair of his padawan lurking just behind them.</p><p>“What did you do now, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked, his mind already filling up with all the terrible things his apprentice could have done, that would illicit <em>two</em> council members coming to speak with him.</p><p>“I didn’t do anything,” Anakin protested, as the three entered the room.</p><p>“We’re not here to speak to you about your padawan, Master Kenobi,” Mace Windu said.</p><p>“Well, that’s a change,” Obi-Wan replied, his dire fears replaced instantly with curiosity.</p><p>“Word has reached us of a political unrest in the Pijal system,” Master Billaba said. “Our records revealed that you had conducted a mission to that system when you were an apprentice to Master Jinn.”</p><p>“Yes,” Obi-Wan replied. “We helped Master Aveross to resolve a complicated political dispute between the monarchy and the Czerka Corporation, which resulted in the end of the monarchy and the installation of a democratic Assembly instead.”</p><p>“We would like you and your padawan to return to the planet, to investigate these rumours and ensure that the current government is unaffected,” Master Windu said.</p><p>“Wait, what about Emily?” Anakin asked, looking between each of them. “She needs our help. Can’t Master Aveross go instead?”</p><p>“Rael Aveross is currently on an extended mission,” Master Billaba said. “This matter needs to be investigated with urgency, and by someone knowledgeable in the planets politics.”</p><p>“But-”</p><p>“I understand, and my padawan and I will - of course - attend to this matter immediately,” Obi-Wan said with a bow, interrupting before Anakin could add anything else. Mace Windu gave his apprentice a long, searching stare.</p><p>“A transporter and supplies will be arranged for you. I suggest you wrap up any outstanding business you currently have,” Mace Windu said. “You will be expected to leave in six standard hours.”</p><p>“May the Force be with you,” Master Billaba added, as the two council members bowed and left the room.</p><p>“We can’t just leave her all alone,” Anakin blurted out, twisting and tangling his fingers together. Obi-Wan pushed aside the reluctance that wormed through his own chest. It was the first seed of attachment, he knew, and it was better to squash it now, than let it take root and grow.</p><p>“We will do as we are asked by the Council,” Obi-Wan said, putting a stern bite into his voice. “I’m sure Emily will be perfectly fine while we’re gone.”</p><p>“Anyway, I’ll look after her,” Pei said, patting Anakin briefly on the shoulder. “Now that she’s eating and comfortable interacting with the medi-droid, by the time the two of you get back, I wager you’ll hardly recognise her.”</p><p>“Master Pelri is right,” Obi-Wan agreed, but his eyes strayed to the reflection of Emily’s sleeping body in the glass screen. A sharp pang of worry sparked deep in his chest, adamantly refusing to be extinguished.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So this was a much longer chapter than I had anticipated. It could probably do with being cut down, but I enjoyed writing it too much and resolutely disagree with the advice of "kill your darlings," especially in fanfiction. </p><p>Run happy and free my darlings, and breed like tiny, prose-shaped rabbits.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Spiky dog lizard. Glowing cactus branches. Giant tick cow.”</p><p>Image after image flashed in front of Emily, but she was barely giving them her attention. She had no clue why they were showing her this stuff. It was like a 3D artist was pitching their portfolio for the next Avatar movie. Maybe Elon Musk was wanting to set up a new franchise, and had decided that, when he wasn’t making her sick or terrifying her with robots, he’d get some art critique from her as well. It didn’t matter. Emily didn’t give a flying fuck about what they wanted, she just knew that they tended to leave her alone when she was doing this stuff - and that gave her time to think. If ‘think’ was an appropriate word for what she was actually doing. A reasonable person would probably call it, ‘obsessively replaying events and devising malicious acts of terrorism,’ but hey, it’s not like a reasonable person was within a hundred yards of her anyway.</p><p>“Twisty teacup. Flying spider bat. Crystal petal ball.”</p><p>It was her fault. They hadn’t put Ben in with her because of her scars, as she had first thought; they’d obviously done it because they needed someone to help keep her calm and control her. The minute she had started to comply, they’d realised that they didn’t need Ben there with her anymore. Oh, he’d played along well. He had smiled, and patted her arm and said bland, comforting things in English - as he pulled on his boots and let the robot scan and inject him with stuff. But it didn’t matter what he said; Emily had seen the soft sorrow in his eyes when she’d grabbed his hand and tried to tug him back from the door. She’d heard the sadness in his voice when he’d squeezed her hand in both of his - warm and calloused and so familiar now - and had said, “I am sorry. I learned the word for hello, but I do not know how to say…”</p><p>“Stop,” Emily said, and the hologram winked out of existence. She stared at the empty bed across the room. It had been two days since he’d left and the boy had disappeared too. In their place, even more random people had been coming and going - a few of them dressed up so ridiculously, it made the regular two cosplayers look positively modest in comparison. There was knobbly conehead goatee man, and the guy like Bane from The Dark Knight, but wearing a fake octopus like a wig. They would come in and stare at glowing screens as Melted Mickey - or ‘Pea’ as Ben had called them - talked and talked. Emily tried to make out words, but they all spoke so fast she couldn’t keep up. Most of the time they’d just stand there and stare at her, until it made her skin crawl, like their eyes were crowding around her and pushing in.</p><p>She had to do it tonight.</p><p>Emily had already tested out parts of her plan. She’d purposefully woken up during the night to visit the toilet; and had observed the robot light up at her movements, but then it quickly shut down when it saw her intentions. The second night, it didn’t turn on at all. She’d also managed to hide one of the spoons under the padding on her bed. It was oddly shaped - more like a tiny shovel really - with a long, blunted edge that dipped into a shallow bowl. It wasn’t the best tool she could ask for, but it would do for what she needed. She also knew exactly what panel in the shower wall to go for. There was a seam that ran down the side of one of the wall-jets. She was sure she could jam the edge of the spoon in there, and pry it off.</p><p>The only problem with all of this, was that she was now doing it entirely alone. Emily had hoped to find a way to communicate with Ben, so they could work together to break out. It was obvious that he knew something about this place, and had been stuck here far longer than her. With his knowledge - and almost distractingly excessive muscles - they had a much better chance of finding the boy, sabotaging the shit out of the building, and then getting the fuck out of this hellhole and back to normal civilisation. Now, Emily was faced with the prospect of doing all of that alone - plus needing to find out where they were keeping Ben so she could free him. And what if they weren’t the only people kept prisoner here? What if there were hundreds of others - maybe even some from the plane crash like her? She had to make sure everyone got out of this place. Emily couldn’t stand the thought of someone being left here to be experimented on.</p><p>That meant no lighting the place on fire, which had been a reoccurring fantasy of hers for some time. No running around punching things (another fantasy). No, she’d have to rein in every sudden impulse and knee-jerk reaction which had, since birth, been the solid foundation Emily had chosen to build her hectic life on. She would now have to be slow, and cautious, and methodical, and above all - rational - if she was to get out of here with Ben and the others. She knew there wouldn’t be a second shot at it if she failed.</p><p>Emily was pulled out of her head by a quiet rumbling of voices. Turning at the sound of her name, she watched as around eight people swept into the room behind the glass. Most of them were cosplayers she had seen before; like Octopus Bane, Conehead and the hovering green Build-A-Bear Robot. All of them were wearing varying styles of the pyjamas that Ben had worn. Standing out from the browns and beiges, an older man stood amongst them - wearing a long, stiff and fancy looking dress in black and burgundy. He approached the window immediately on entering; his rheumy eyes, set in a deeply lined face, fixed on her. Emily stood up from her bed - the shift in the atmosphere was so sudden, the air almost tingled around her. Something was happening.</p><p>“Emily,” the older man said, his face creased into a soft smile. He turned to the others and said something else. Emily could pick up, “she” and “speak” and “Basic”.</p><p>“Yes,” Emily answered, before one of the others could; quickly clarifying, “I speak small words.” She didn’t want to give him the expectation of her being a savant or something. For every ten words Ben had effortlessly learned, Emily had usually only managed to fumble over one.</p><p>“Good,” he said, his smile widening. “I am…” and then he made a jumble of sounds. Emily smiled and nodded. Did no-one in this fucking place have a normal sounding name?</p><p>“Hello,” she said, not even attempting to say his name.</p><p>“Hello,” he returned, looking positively giddy. He turned back to the others and started to speak; his words were clear, but far too fast for Emily to properly keep up with. It seemed like a normal conversation, and if it weren’t for the odd mention of her name, she would have thought it wasn’t about her at all, given how they all seemed to ignore her. The Old Guy then said something, and Pea cut him off - their voice low and clipped. The others shifted and mumbled at whatever Pea said. Emily hadn’t really interacted much with her two cosplayer voyeurs; but if she were to guess, she’d say Pea wasn’t happy, and everyone else in the room was equally unhappy with Pea - going by the scowls</p><p>Pea went on talking, ignoring anyone who tried to cut in. Once the monologue stopped, it became a free-for-all. Everyone had an opinion. Emily imagined that she would also have a strong opinion on whatever they were talking about, if she could only understand a tenth of what they were saying, but no-one had bothered to stop and fill her in. Eventually it was really only Pea, Old Guy, Baldy and Build-A-Bear Robot talking. And what even was the point of the floating stuffed toy? Was someone just speaking through it from somewhere else? The whole thing was bizarre.</p><p>The conversation stopped. They had all turned to look at her, and Emily could feel her hackles rising as they did. She had the horrible feeling that something had been decided, and that she had absolutely zero fucking say in it. Old Man said something to her, but she only understood her name at the end of it. Then he left the room; the others leaving with him until only Pea was left behind. Pea’s dark black eyes briefly met hers.</p><p>“I am sorry,” Pea said in broken English.</p><p>“Why?” Emily asked, a knot of fear coiling in her belly.</p><p>Pea opened their mouth; the weird drooping flaps of their face mask quivered a little. Then, after a moment, they shook their tan head. “Sorry,” they said again, and turning, walked out through the observation room door, leaving Emily alone. Whatever that group of trick-or-treaters had decided on, it had set in stone Emily’s plan to escape tonight. Something was happening, and she wasn’t going to stick around to find out what.</p><p>-----------</p><p>When they came for her a few hours later, they didn’t even give Emily a chance to grab for her spoon.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, we'll diving in to a much darker and more angsty next few chapters, just as an FYI. The whole fic won't be that - I like a nice balance of humour/drama/angst/romance, which hopefully this fic will be. But, if dark and angsty isn't your thing, I'd say you may want to skip the next 4 or so chapters coming up. I will of course tag as well, so people know what they're getting. Thanks for reading everyone, the engagement has been great and really keeps me motivated. x</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So, in summary, the coup was nothing more than a wild bantha chase across half of the Inner Rim,” Obi-Wan finished, leaning back on his heels. The sun had started to dip low, casting a soft light into the council chambers through the wide, curved windows. “Fanry, the previously deposed Queen, now lives rather quietly on Champala and appears to be entirely unaware of any plots to reinstitute the Pijal Monarchy.”</p><p>“And you are certain of this?” Master Gallia asked. “She has deceived the Jedi once before.”</p><p>“I sensed no deception in her when we spoke,” Obi-Wan replied. “Fanry was adamant that she only wished for her, and her young daughter, to be left in peace. I do not believe she is the same angry young woman Master Qui-Gon and I encountered, all those years ago.”</p><p>“While I’m pleased that this coup appears to be nothing more than unsubstantiated rumours,” Mace Windu said, easing back into his council seat, “I am concerned that they managed to gain so much traction, across a number of reliable sources, to come to the attention of both the Jedi and the Senate.”</p><p>“Given the number of people we spoke with on both the planet and its moon, I do not believe the rumours started from there,” Obi-Wan added.</p><p>“Hmmm, sense something more to this, I do,” Master Yoda said, trailing a clawed hand along his ear, his eyes distant. “Meditate on this matter, we will.”</p><p>“Thank you for your report, Master Kenobi,” Ki-Adi-Mundi said. Obi-Wan and Anakin both bowed, before retreating to the turbolift.</p><p>Anakin blew out a long breath, his shoulders slumping, as the doors closed behind them. “Thank goodness that’s over,” he said, staring out past the transparent walls and the blue skyline blurring past them. Obi-Wan would never understand his apprentice’s dislike of addressing the High Council. Obi-Wan suspected it stemmed from his first meeting with them, when they had tested Anakin as a boy. Since then, he’d always stiffened up like a board the minute he entered the circular room.</p><p>“Can we go see Emily now?” Anakin asked, straightening back up as he bounced a little on his toes.</p><p>“I was hoping to get a shower first - and a hot meal as well, come to think of it,” Obi-Wan replied.</p><p>“Can’t we check that she’s okay first, and then go do that?”</p><p>Obi-Wan scrubbed a hand over his face. He was tired and hungry and really, he just wanted a few minutes of quiet to himself. Still - Obi-Wan had to admit - he would probably enjoy that quiet more, in the knowledge that everything was as they had left it.</p><p>“Alright, but only a quick visit,” Obi-Wan conceded. Anakin grinned in response.</p><p>“Do you think she’s learned more words while we were gone?” Anakin asked, and then immediately ploughed on, not waiting for a response. “If she’s learned even half as much in the last ten days as she did with you, I bet they’ll be enough for me to get a proper translation protocol set up in M3L1. Then we could find out all kinds of things about her! And maybe, while we were gone, Master Pelri managed to make that vaccine for her. Wouldn’t that be great? Then I could show her around the Temple. Do you think they’ll keep her in the same living quarters we’re in? I bet-”</p><p>“Anakin, you’re getting too far ahead of yourself,” Obi-Wan said, cutting him off. He had been subjected to a slew of similar questions and speculation since they had left Coruscant airspace, and his padawan’s fixation was starting to become a concern. “Be mindful of your feelings. Our goal is to get Emily home to her people, as soon as we are able. While it’s natural to feel a certain level of personal interest in her wellbeing, you must be careful to not let that interest develop into a form of attachment. Be it now or later, she will return to her world, and we will continue on as we are.”</p><p>“Yes Master,” Anakin said, his voice heavy with reluctance. “But I don’t see why we can’t all be friends - until she goes home, that is.”</p><p>“I hope for that too,” Obi-Wan said, patting Anakin on the shoulder, just as the turbolift doors opened. “Come on, let’s go see if she’s punched any more droids while we’ve been away.”</p><p>It took them a while to reach the medical sector. The long corridors of the Temple were particularly busy with Jedi and younglings alike, filtering out of the training rooms and library, or from the meditation rooms on the level below. Most were making there way to the communal dining hall. Obi-Wan tamped down on the angry growl of his stomach. It was not pleased that he was heading in the opposite direction.</p><p>When the door to the iso-chamber opened, Obi-Wan was expecting to be met by any number of things - like the distinctive buzz of Pei’s numerous scientific devices, or perhaps Doctors Nema’s musical humming - which she often did when she was concentrating. Maybe even the distinctive sound of Emily’s voice, low and a little rough, as she applied herself to learning Basic. What he hadn’t expected, was there to be absolutely nothing at all.</p><p>“Where is everybody?” Anakin asked, as they entered the room. The observation room’s tables; which at one point had been entirely covered by Pei’s strange, glowing contraptions, were now entirely bare. Beyond the viewing window, the expanded room that he and Emily had shared, had been restored to separate chambers, the dividing wall back in place. There was no indication that anyone had stayed here merely ten days before. Everything was clean, neat and orderly - and entirely lifeless.</p><p>“Perhaps Pei managed to create that vaccine after all,” Obi-Wan said, ignoring the lurch in his stomach which was most definitely not from hunger. He ran his hands along the smooth surface of the now empty tables. “Or they discovered her home-world while we were away?”</p><p>“Wouldn’t the Council have told us, if they had?” Anakin asked, staring around the room with a baffled expression.</p><p>“Not necessarily. We were there to report on our mission, not to enquire after the goings on in the Temple while we were away. Either way, we’re not going to learn much standing about here. Let’s see if we can find Pei - or Doctor Nema. They’ll be able to clear things up.”</p><p>Obi-Wan and Anakin made their way from the iso-chambers, to the cluster of medical pods, surgery rooms, bacta chambers and labs that filled the rest of the medical sector. There were few people around, the area mostly filled with cleaning bots and medi-droids that whirled and beeped from room to room. Eventually, they found Doctor Nema in one of the research labs - her slender form hunched over a datapad.</p><p>“I do hope we’re not interrupting?” Obi-Wan said. He watched as the Doctor startled, a hand coming up to her chest as she whipped around at the sound. Obi-Wan noted that she looked far more tired than the last time he’d seen her. There was a slump to her shoulders and a slightly ashy tone to her usually radiant yellow skin.</p><p>“Oh, Master Kenobi. Skywalker,” she said, slumping back down into her seat at the sight of them. “I hadn’t realised you’d returned from your mission. I’m afraid you’ve caught me with my thoughts in the clouds.”</p><p>“We can always come back, if we’re disturbing you?” Obi-Wan replied.</p><p>“No of course not. Please, come in,” she said, rising from her chair. “I suspect that you’ve come to inquire about Emily.”</p><p>“Is everything alright?” Anakin quickly asked, his voice thick with worry. “The iso-chamber was empty when we visited. Did Master Pelri work out a vaccine?”</p><p>Doctor Nema sighed, smoothing a hand over her headpiece. Obi-Wan felt his stomach dip even further. “I think you should both take a seat while I explain.”</p><p>“What happened?” Obi-Wan asked, ignoring the seat.</p><p>“There’s no need to be alarmed, Master Kenobi,” Doctor Nema quickly clarified. “Emily is perfectly safe and healthy. She’s simply been relocated to another facility outside of the Temple.”</p><p>“Relocated?” Obi-Wan said.</p><p>“While you were on your mission, Master Pelri made a rather startling discovery,” Doctor Nema said, picking up her datapad and moving closer to where the two were stood. “Initially, she had thought that an error had occurred while taking the tissue samples, which had led to a false-positive result. After several further samples were taken over the subsequent days, she realised that it wasn’t a false-positive at all - Emily’s cells were starting to develop midi-chlorians.”</p><p>Doctor Nema tapped on her datapad a few times, turning the screen towards them to show two comparison blood cell scans. One, was the bafflingly Force deficient cell that had initially caused such an uproar, taken when Emily arrived at the Temple. The second, was a similarly structured cell; but there, scattered throughout, were the familiar microscopic shapes of midi-chlorians.</p><p>“How can that be possible?” Obi-Wan asked, plucking the datapad from the Doctor’s hands so he could more closely examine the results. “And your definitely sure this isn’t due to cross-contamination?”</p><p>“If you wish to question Master Pelri’s methodology, Master Kenobi, then I’ll let you be the one to ask her that yourself.”</p><p>“I don’t understand,” Obi-Wan said, handing the datapad back to Doctor Nema. “Surely this discovery would be an even greater reason to keep Emily within the Temple? Why in the stars would we send her to another facility?”</p><p>“A number of senators and Republican scientists heard about Emily, and her rather unique biology. The Chancellor informed us, on his visit to meet her, that there had been increasing pressure placed on him, by interested parties, to have Emily put into a facility which would allow for greater access and sharing of information across the galactic scientific community.”</p><p>“So, we just let strangers take her away?” Anakin asked, anger tinging his voice.</p><p>“I performed a thorough examination of the chosen medical centre,” Doctor Nema said, straightening up a little. “It’s one of the finest on Coruscant. And - as hard as it is to admit - the Chancellor did bring up several valid points. While the Jedi have complete authority over themselves - Emily is not a Jedi. When she landed here in Republican space, she became the responsibility of the Coruscant authorities.”</p><p>“But we rescued her!” Anakin said.</p><p>“Yes - but rescuing a person doesn’t automatically grant control of their fate,” Doctor Nema replied. “He also mentioned that, if we don’t find her home-world for some time, Emily would need to be acclimatised and integrated into the Coruscant culture. Trying to teach her to do that in the Jedi Temple wouldn’t be fair on her - or us. We live a life purposefully detached from those not within our order. She should be around people who can teach her more about life outside of our sanctuary.”</p><p>The conversation lulled as each of them contemplated the situation. Obi-Wan’s logical mind could see how perfectly sensible and valid each argument was. It was true; they had no authority to dictate her fate. That fell within the purview of the local government to agree on, just as it would for any other non-Republican citizen discovered during an incident. He couldn’t help but entirely agree with the decision - in principle. In reality - that little spark of worry that had settled in his chest from the moment he left the iso-chamber, only ten short days ago, was now a cold, gaping void. Emily had come to them hurt and frightened, and they had handed her over to a group of people she didn’t know. It wasn’t right.</p><p>“Do you know if she’s okay?” Anakin eventually asked.</p><p>“I’ve received a few reports from the facility,” Doctor Nema confirmed. “In fact, that was what I had just been looking over when you arrived. It’s been mostly blood tests, medical notes and the like. They say that she’s settled in, is eating well and getting along with the staff.”</p><p>A glitter of alarm ran down Obi-Wans spine. “Will we be able to visit her?”</p><p>“They want to give her a month or so to settle in, but they say that their happy for people to visit her after that. I was hoping to get the Council’s permission to perhaps arrange an extended visit, of a week or more, to help with her integration.”</p><p>“What about Pei?” Obi-Wan asked. “I can’t imagine she’s happy about this.”</p><p>Doctor Nema lowered her eyes, fiddling with one of the hand straps on her dress. “Master Pelri did voice her <em>strong</em> objections, unfortunately in the presence of the Chancellor. I’m afraid that the Council is not pleased with her. I think they’re hoping that she’ll return to her previous studies, in the Outer Rim.”</p><p>Obi-Wan was hardly surprised. Much like his old master Qui-Gon, Pei Pelri had been at odds with the Council for as long as he’d known her. He could just imagine the sort of choice phrases the Sullustan would have used to voice her displeasure with the decision. Obi-Wan would seek her out in the morning, in the hopes of having a candid discussion about the whole thing. Doctor Nema was a great Jedi and an excellent healer, but Obi-Wan could sense that she had feelings she was reluctant to reveal. He knew that Pei would have no such qualms divulging her misgivings to him.</p><p>“I believe we’ve taken up enough of your time, Doctor,” Obi-Wan said. There was little more they could glean from the healer, and Obi-Wan had a full day of enquiries to make tomorrow, which would need him as well rested as possible. “Thank you for informing us of the situation. We’ll leave you to your work.”</p><p>He bowed, and Anakin, pulling himself from his thoughts, followed suit. As they both turned to leave, Doctor Nema quickly got to her feet.</p><p>“She asked for you,” the Doctor said, her voice hesitant. “Emily. When she left. She was asking for you, Master Kenobi. I ah…I’m sorry, I just thought you would want to know. I don’t think she really understood what was going on.”</p><p>Obi-Wan must have made a face, though he wasn’t really conscious of doing it. He was too busy trying to not feel like someone had just punched him in the gut. Whatever Doctor Nema saw, her eyes widened and she quickly stammered, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”</p><p>“No, I appreciate it Doctor Nema,” Obi-Wan said, smoothing his features into what he hoped was a neutral expression. “Thank you for informing me.”</p><p>Obi-Wan and Anakin walked back to the sleeping quarters in silence. Whatever appetite Obi-Wan initially had, was now entirely gone, and he had a sneaking suspicion the same could be said for his padawan. They paused just outside Anakin’s room.</p><p>“You do think she’s alright though; don’t you Master?” Anakin asked, suddenly looking much younger than his fifteen years. Obi-Wan patted his shoulder, forcing on a smile.</p><p>“Yes, of course. As Doctor Nema said, the facility was thoroughly inspected and is one of the best. I’m sure she’s in good hands. Now, try not to dwell on it. You’ll be back to training with the other padawans tomorrow, and you’ll need all the rest you can get. I’ll speak to you in the morning.”</p><p>“Yes Master. Goodnight.”</p><p>Obi-Wan watched the sleeping chamber doors close behind his padawan, unease churning like a whirlpool in his belly. He hated being dishonest with Anakin, but there was no point in adding his own doubts to the boys. He would speak to Pei tomorrow and get to the bottom of this whole thing. Because no matter what anyone said, something wasn’t right, and Obi-Wan knew he wouldn’t be able to rest until he had discovered the truth.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning: This is much darker and angst-ier than the previous chapters. There is some medical procedures/torture mentioned and thoughts of suicide. If that's a trigger for you, I would recommend skipping this chapter, and probably the next three after this - though I will tag individually for triggers. It's not super heavy, but it is there, and I just want people to read this knowing what they'll get.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was hard to tell how long it had been. The lights were always on, searing bright and cold against her retinas. Shutting her eyes gave no relief - it just painted everything in flushed orange. Emily had initially tried to gauge the passage of time by tracking the rotation of procedures, but everything had blurred into an endless procession. A few days could have passed - or a lifetime.</p><p>There was the metal box - closed all around her - with nothing to see but hot pulses of electricity, as it scattered sparks of light along embedded wires in the polished silver walls engulfing her, and across the network of metal grafted into her skin; like a spider web of gleaming lines and studs. Then there was the transfusion. Tubes hooked up to giant glowing domes, strange coloured liquids being pumped in through stents in her arms and legs and chest. Emily had watched, trying desperately to focus through the fog clouding her eyes, as the brilliant red of her blood was pulled into one machine, and pushed back into her body by another.</p><p>At first, Emily would wake up on a hard, cold bed in a dull room with scuffed walls, exactly six and a half paces by four, paced out on shaking feet before a pale gas would filter in through nozzles in the wall, smothering her into sleep. When she refused to eat or drink - the next time Emily woke up - there was a wide tube, capped on either end with gleaming steel, inserted in through her belly button. When she tried to pull it out, gagging and choking on screams, she woke again to find herself strapped to a table; arms and legs clamped down with thick bands of metal.</p><p>This was her life now. The electric chamber. The transfusion. The feeding machine. Her mouth and throat were too dry now to scream her rage - not that it made any difference when she could. Robots were the only things that interacted with her; human looking ones with arms that ended in knifes and pincers - or shaped like domes, with colour vats and needles and tubes protruding from their base. Emily could still recall, at one point - so tired and dazed from existing - that she had dreamt of Death, cloaked all in black before her. She would have begged him to take her, pleaded, but the dream slipped away as quickly as it came.</p><p>She was in the electric chamber this time. Emily watched the flickering glow cascade from one end of her eyeline to the other. It was almost beautiful. Thin beams of lightning carved geometric patterns in an endless loop, branching out across her vision until it fizzled into black. It didn’t even hurt anymore. It was like all her skin was just scar tissue now - or maybe that was just her mind? Could a brain be scarred until it didn’t feel anything? Is that what they wanted to know?</p><p>Her vision dimmed - the darkness stretching out. The air around her felt thin and anaemic in her lungs. Did seconds tick by? Hours? Emily wanted to pound her fists against the wall, but she was clamped in, gasping for air in her metal coffin. At this point though, she was almost grateful. Wouldn't this be the easier way to go? If she was lucky, it would almost be like falling asleep. Wasn’t that what it felt like to drown? Once the initial panic faded, wouldn’t it just be like breathing in the emptiness around her?</p><p>She could feel it too - everything slipping. It felt like letting go. Would she see her family on the other side? Would her brain have enough oxygen to gift her with the last, dying gasp of neurons, allowing her to briefly glimpse the faces of everyone she loved? Was that too much to ask? Was it wrong not to fight? She was so tired of the endless struggle.</p><p>Everything receded back.</p><p>Then it split. Lights blinded her. Her lungs desperately struggled to pull in air. Sound blared sharp and loud against her eardrums, filling her mind. Her hands flopped down, and then her torso collapsed against something hard, that shifted and beeped beneath her. Emily was tossed onto a slab of metal, solid and flat. Something clamped down around her waist, tugging at her, as a whistling noise overlaid the blare of sirens pounding her head. Emily scrabbled against the smooth surface, clinging to the sharp edges with her fingertips, nothing fuelling her but knee-jerk survival instincts. She gasped and coughed against the air; it felt thick like soup, tasting of nothing but copper on her tongue and the blade-edge of fury.</p><p>Emily’s hand brushed across something icy, that clattered against the polished table top. Her fingers snatched blindly, fingertips pressing down on the sharp, cold edges of an unfamiliar object, it’s reassuring heft steadying her trembling hands. She was barely conscious at all of pivoting; her body twisting until she felt a blunted shudder echo through her bones, as the sharp gleam of metal in her hand plunged into the illuminated faceplate of the robot trying to haul her from the table. It sputtered and moaned as she stabbed down, again and again, until the smooth glass fractured and sparked, and she was tossed to the floor beside the twitching mechanical limbs. Emily stared up at the rotating beam of glaring red light that flooded the ceiling, sweeping a pulsing crimson into the far corners of the room.</p><p>Move, her mind screamed. Move you crazy bitch! Do it now, or you might as well just fucking lie here and die. Emily rolled onto her side, blinking past the swirling flecks of light that swarmed her eyes. The room around her held nothing but her metal coffin, and the tray of instruments pushed up beside it; the ruin of the robot she’d stabbed still sparking and jittering at her side. Emily rolled back, trying desperately to pull together the will to move.</p><p>It took an age; but eventually she managed to open her eyes against the dragging exhaustion telling her to just give in. She looked around the room, taking in the glowing wall panels, the hanging cables dangling from the ceiling. Emily spotted a backlit recess in the wall to her left, blue symbols imprinted over a long, glowing interface clinging to the panel’s edge. She inched herself towards it, willing her legs to push against the dead weight of her torso, feeling the ache of the wasted muscles in her shoulders and arms as she dragged her numb legs over the polished floor. The metal in her hands pinched hard against her scarred skin, but she held onto it so tight, it might as well have been grafted to her.</p><p>It took an agonising lifetime to reach the door. Emily could have spared a moment’s thought to studying the flashing panels, in the hopes of deciphering the hieroglyphics that glowed with a scrolling blue light across the screen. Instead, she jammed the spike of metal in her hands against the nearest seam, fingernails clawing and prying until the cool glass gave way against her assault, the coloured wires snapping and fizzling as she ripped them out from the console. The door panel slid back, revealing a wide corridor beyond.</p><p>Emily took in the dirty grey walls that stretched out beyond her room. She gave herself a second to weigh up in her mind the frighteningly small odds of escaping; battling against the horrible realisation that she’d have to crawl her way through an unknown building. The only thing certain in her mind, was that she couldn’t give up; not while there was still smallest hope that she could go home. Emily hauled herself on to the now emaciated pile of bones she had once called her legs. Glancing down over the web of metal still wrapped around her body like a tattoo, she focused on her next steps.</p><p>She needed to find out where she was; then she needed to find a way out. Once she was out, she’d make the bastards pay for what they had done to her. As weak as Emily felt, the sheer anger that burned inside her chest, fuelled her limbs as she dragged herself onto her feet. With grim determination, she staggered blindly down the hallway, her improvised weapon still clutched so tightly in her hand, it was enough to draw blood.</p><p>The options before her were clear; she’d either make it out of here alive - or she would die trying.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I wrote this drunk, so please forgive me if it's not quite at the same quality? I have a belly-button phobia (which I'm not even sure as a thing, but it is very much is for me) and had to have a few glasses of wine to even write the idea of something going in through her belly-button, without feeling sick. *dry heaves*</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sleep eluded Obi-Wan for most of the night. His attempts at meditation hadn’t fared much better. So, hours before the first creeping blush of dawn could warm the sky, Obi-Wan found his restless feet had led him to Pei Pelri’s sleeping quarters. He stared at the inlaid door. What was he even doing here? He couldn’t disturb his friends rest, just because he’d failed to find his own.</p><p>“Do come in Obi-Wan,” he heard a voice call from behind the durasteel, “you’re brooding so loudly out there, you’ll wake up half the Temple.”</p><p>The door slid up, revealing a softly lit interior. The low bed in the centre of the room was still made, it’s woven green sheets crisp and untouched. Shelves lined the walls, filled with an assortment of oddities. It reminded Obi-Wan of the mess of Anakin’s room, though this at least had some semblance of organisation to it. “I am sorry to disturb you Pei,” he said as he entered, the door whooshing shut behind him.</p><p>“Fortunately for you, I was already awake,” the Sullustan replied, from where she was tucked into a comfortable looking chair in front of a desk heaving with datapads. Pei didn’t look up at Obi-Wan’s entrance, she just flicked a hand to indicate the workload in front of her. “I have a mountain of reports and analysis to go through from the studies on VK-3NJ67, which have all been accumulating in my absence. It’s riveting stuff.”</p><p>Now that he was in Pei’s room, Obi-Wan had no idea where to start. What was he even going to say? He wandered over to a wall covered in an array of colourful art and beautiful patterns. It was only on closer inspection, that he could see they were enlarged microscopic samples. Crystal fractals. The colourful web of plant cells. The fluorescence of protein structures. Beauty and complexity held in even the smallest living forms.</p><p>“Out with it then,” Pei said, interrupting his thoughts. He turned from the pictures to see that she was watching him now, dark eyes glittering in the low light.</p><p>“I talked to Doctor Nema yesterday,” he said.</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“And…while I can understand the reasoning behind the Council’s decision-” Pei cut Obi-Wan off with a derisive snort, “-I’ve not been able to shake the uneasy feeling that there’s something very off about the whole thing. Doctor Nema had mentioned you had voiced your <em>opinions</em>-” another snort, “-at the time, and I was rather hoping you would share them with me.”</p><p>“You know me well enough that you could probably list them yourself, Obi-Wan,” Pei replied. She tossed the forgotten datapad in her hands onto the desk, not flinching at the mini avalanche caused by the impact. Pei tugged at her left ear; an old habit Obi-Wan recognised from their shared youth. Something was bothering her too. “The Council - as usual - are happy to pass over on anything that may cause even the smallest amount of upset to daily life in the Temple - especially if it could lead to discoveries that might challenge their views on the Force. The Chancellor is only showing an interest as it will probably buff his political ties - or help him to form new ones.”</p><p>Pei released her ear and shook her head, letting out a sigh. “And in the middle of it all, is one frightened, injured woman who was entrusted into our care - and whose trust we betrayed by not fighting for what was best for her.”</p><p>“Doctor Nema said that Emily had asked for me?” Obi-Wan unexpectedly found himself saying. Because that had been it, hadn’t it? The thing his mind kept looping back to - batting aside sleep and interrupting meditation.</p><p>“If by ‘asked’ Doctor Nema meant, ‘screamed your name until she was sedated’, then yes, Emily asked for you,” she replied. Obi-Wan scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to push aside the sick rush in his stomach. He had wanted Pei’s honest opinion, but that didn’t always prepare you for the blow.</p><p>“What about the reports they’ve been sending?” he asked.</p><p>“It’s just a bunch of vague and useless data, nothing helpful.” Pei eased herself up from the chair, smoothing down her loose nightclothes and stretching out her long toes. Obi-Wan watched as she pulled a set of robes from her dresser. “All of my research was transferred at the same time Emily was carted off - my formulations for the analgesic gel, anaesthetic compound and her nutritional paste were all taken as well. I have been, very specifically, instructed by the Council to focus my attentions elsewhere.”</p><p>“Obi-Wan,” Pei said, after a long pause. “You didn’t wander into my room before daybreak, just to ask me questions you already know the answer to. Why are you really here?”</p><p>She was right of course, Obi-Wan realised. He knew exactly why he had come to her, even if he struggled to admit it to himself. “I was thinking that we might pay the facility an unexpected visit.”</p><p>“Really?” Pei said, though she didn’t seem remotely surprised. “The Council won’t be happy with that, and we both know how much you hate disappointing the Council.”</p><p>“Yes well, as you pointed out, the Council can - very occasionally - be incorrect in their assessments.” Obi-Wan watched the Sullustan’s mouth flaps tug up into a little smile. “If my fears are unfounded, I’ll happily stand before the Council and bear the full brunt of their judgement,” he clarified.</p><p>“Hmmm, there’s more than a little of Qui-Gon left in you yet-” Pei said, wandering across the room to pat his shoulder. Then she reached up and tugged at his beard. “-and I don’t just mean in that ridiculous hair you’ve insisted on growing all over your face.”</p><p>Obi-Wan batted her hand away, but he couldn’t help the relieved smile that split his face. Pei was a good friend, even when she was happily knocking your self-esteem to the ground.</p><p>“Well?” she said. “Stop standing there grinning at me like an idiot. Go get your padawan and I’ll meet you at the transporter bays on the East side.”</p><p>“Yes, Master Pelri,” Obi-Wan said, in his best submissive padawan tone, before giving a mocking bow. He barely dodged the datapad that was launched after him, as he ducked out of the room with a laugh. Now all he had to do was drag his apprentice away from his morning meal.</p><p>That, as it turned out, was not as hard a task as it usually was. The minute Anakin had been told that they were going to visit Emily at her new facility, the boy practically shovelled his entire plates’ worth of scrambled nuna eggs and fried Kooriva mushrooms into his mouth, before jumping out of his chair, cheeks bulging, as he struggled to quickly gulp down his breakfast. A quick trip to change into their robes, and they were met by an impatient Pei at the landing pads, not twenty minutes later.</p><p> “Do you know the coordinates to this facility?” Obi-Wan asked, as the three of them piled into one of the Temple’s bigger air-taxi’s, Anakin slotting himself in the pilot seat with practiced ease.</p><p>“No, I thought we would just fly from building to building and ask for her by name…” Pei said, pulling out her remote comms tracker. She punched a couple of buttons, and a green dot flashed on the vehicle’s navigation panel, just as Anakin pulled out from the bay.</p><p>“Do you know anything about this place?” Obi-Wan said, as the skyline zipped past them.</p><p>“It’s one of the Republican Cross-World Research Institutions. Good facilities. Highly regarded. Has some of the best and brightest of the Republic’s scientific minds working inside.”</p><p>“Why does none of that seem to comfort me?” Obi-Wan asked.</p><p>“Well, we’re about to find out, Master,” Anakin replied, as a gleaming tower came into view, shaped like a tailfin cutting through the sky. Anakin transmitted a request to dock using a Jedi access code, and a few seconds later, a side panel opened up, allowing their vehicle entry. Just as their boots hit the landing pad, a silver protocol droid shuffled out of a side door and approached them.</p><p>“Welcome to the Repprodel Institute of Scientific Research. We are honoured to welcome the Jedi to our facility. How may I help you this morning?”</p><p>“We were hoping to speak to one of the scientists in your institute,” Obi-Wan replied.</p><p>“Oh yes, of course. One of our lead technicians will be delighted to speak to you, I am sure. This way please,” the droid said, wandering back to the side door it came from. After exchanging a look, the Jedi followed.</p><p>Obi-Wan was struck by the unfamiliar jitter of nerves. What if he’d just been overthinking everything? As they walked through the clean, bright corridors and past glittering laboratories full of some of the most advanced tech he had ever seen, Obi-Wan started to get the horrible feeling that this was all just in his head. That they’d find Emily happy and healthy and engaging with the staff, glad to get away from her dull iso-chamber in the Temple, and from Obi-Wan constantly hovering over her. And he should be thrilled at the prospect that she would be happy here, shouldn’t he? Isn’t that what he wanted? Was his apprehension just down to his own attachment, and the guilt of not being there for her when she was transferred.</p><p>“You’re brooding again,” Pei said as she walked along beside him. Obi-Wan pulled himself from his thoughts, taking a moment to just breathe and clear his mind. If Emily was happy here, then they would take their leave with the sincerest thanks and gratitude. In the end, all that mattered was her wellbeing.</p><p>They entered in to a large reception, filled with designer seats and expensive artwork. Behind a huge, polished stone desk, sat a Rodian female. She stood up as they approached the reception desk, her white uniform a stark contrast to the brilliant turquoise green of her skin.</p><p>“I am Suritea Jorr,” she said, inclining her head respectfully. “Welcome to our Institute. It is always a rare pleasure to receive Jedi to our laboratories. I am sorry for the poor welcome. If you had contacted us in advance, we would have made the appropriate preparations for your arrival.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said with a bow. He reached out with the Force, testing the air, but could feel nothing but sincerity from the Rodian. “My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. This is my fellow Jedi, Master Pei Pelri, and my padawan, Anakin Skywalker. We apologise for dropping in unannounced. We were simply hoping to visit with one of your research patients, recently transferred to you from the Jedi Temple. Her name is Emily.”</p><p>The Rodian turned to her computer, her large blue eyes flickering through a scrolling screen of text. “I’m afraid that we never received the patient you speak of, Master Kenobi,” the Rodian said, drawing her gaze back to him. “She was redirected on route to an off-world facility.”</p><p>“By who?” Pei demanded, stepping up to the desk to peer at the screen herself. The Rodian blanched a slightly paler green as she was elbowed out of the way.</p><p>“We weren’t provided with a name, just with verified communication from the Coruscant Authorities that the patient was to be treated in an off-world facility, on the planet Kuat.”</p><p>“We were not informed of this,” Pei said, fingers tapping over the screens. “What about the reports we’ve been receiving? They were sent directly from your terminals.”</p><p>“Yes,” Suritea stammered. “We were asked to continue forwarding on the reports to all interested parties as previously requested. It’s all in the communication. Really, we’ve done everything we were asked.”</p><p>“Pei?” Obi-Wan said, every alarm in his head blaring. “Can you find out anything?”</p><p>“The comms signatures look official enough, but I can’t verify it without my equipment. The tracking signature is all over the place. I don’t know if I can trace it’s source.”</p><p>“Can I try?” Anakin asked. “I might be able to.”</p><p>Pei nodded, stepping back to let Anakin slip in to the space between her and the screens. The Rodian was glancing nervously back and forth between them, her long fingers twisted together. Obi-Wan absent-mindedly stroked his hand through his beard, trying to focus past his feelings to the calm held within the Force. They were going to need all of their wits to get to the truth of this mess. Obi-Wan just hoped they weren’t too late.</p><p>“Got it!” Anakin shouted. “Getting the comms coordinates now. Wait…zero, zero, zero. The messages are being sent from Coruscant.”</p><p>“Do you know from where?” Obi-Wan asked.</p><p>“Just gimmie a second,” Anakin replied, fingers clattering over the keys. “That’s weird. The coordinates are pointing to the middle of The Works.”</p><p>“The Works is just a burnt-out pile of crumbling old buildings,” the Rodian said. “There’s no scientific facilities there. Are you sure you are correct?”</p><p>Anakin didn’t reply, he was looking to Obi-Wan. “Master, why would anyone take her there?”</p><p>“To avoid being found,” Pei replied. Obi-Wan nodded his agreement.</p><p>“Transfer the coordinates to the vehicle,” Obi-Wan said. “Someone has gone to a lot of effort to cover their tracks. I dread to think what that means for Emily.”</p><p>No-one said a word as they flew out into the Industrial sector. Anakin was gunning the air-taxi at a speed that would normally have Obi-Wan clinging to the dashboard and shouting for mercy, but now, even as the buildings and traffic flew by in a dizzying blur, it didn’t feel remotely fast enough. Pei was a calm and focused energy beside him. She had been a Consular in the research department for many years now, ever since the incident, but Obi-Wan held no concerns should she be faced with battle. Pei was an unflappable presence, even in the midst of chaos. It was one of the many traits he admired in her.</p><p>“This is it, I think,” Anakin said, slowing the vehicle. A huge tower loomed ahead; its structure shaped like a dart stabbing into the sky. The outside of it was like the rest of the buildings in The Works - a rusted, decaying ruin. Whole sections of panelling had peeled off its sides, revealing the broken bones of its metal struts underneath. It would likely have been an impressive building back when this was a thriving section of Coruscant. Now it was just another crumbling monument to a dead industry.</p><p>“See if you can find a docking bay or recess to land on,” Obi-Wan said, as Anakin banked up along its side. There was docking bay doors ringed around the middle of the building, but they were sealed, and probably not able to be opened from the outside without a keycode.</p><p>“There’s a small landing pad further up,” Anakin said, and the air-taxi jolted and shuddered as he put them into a sudden spin, a manoeuvre the unwieldy aircraft wasn’t built for. They landed in the narrow hatch, the bottom of the ship catching and sparking as it slid along the duracrete floor, a streak of glowing red metal trailing in their wake.</p><p>“That was subtly done,” Pei dryly noted, jumping out of the aircraft.</p><p>“Sorry Master,” Anakin said, but Obi-Wan waved away his apologies. He reached out with the Force, but couldn’t sense any life nearby. That, however, didn’t discount the possibility of droids.</p><p>“We don’t know what we might encounter. Our main priority is to find out if Emily is being held here, and if she is, to get her out unharmed. Everything else is secondary,” Obi-Wan said. “If we can find any information on what exactly is going on here, then we’ll consider that a bonus.”</p><p>Pei and Anakin nodded. Together, they made their way to the south end of the landing pad, where a blast door was already opened. They quietly slipped through into a series of corridors beyond, scuffed and dirty with neglect, but the dim yellowed lights were still glowing along the ceiling. Someone was still in the building. After a few minutes of searching, they came across a storage room, filled with unpacked crates.</p><p>“Electronics. Some medical equipment. Food rations. Repair kits…” Pei said, peering through each one. “Someone’s setting themselves up for a long stay.”</p><p>“Doing what exactly?” Obi-Wan asked.</p><p>“Master,” Anakin whispered, gesturing down an open doorway at the opposite end of the room. Obi-Wan and Pei quietly picked there way over.</p><p>“There’s something down there,” he said, indicating another corridor in the same filthy disrepair as all the other’s they had walked through. Obi-Wan couldn’t sense anything himself, but he knew to trust his padawan’s keen instincts. They had never let them down before. Obi-Wan nodded, indicating to go slowly and quietly.</p><p>The corridor branched off, and down the west end, they could see another open doorway, illuminated by the bright light coming from within, the faint buzz of machinery barely audible. The three Jedi slipped down the hallway like silent shadows, more and more of the room coming into view. It looked like an observation chamber of some sort. One wall was filled with dozens of holoscreens, though it was hard to make out their images from a distance. About half-way down the hall, the unmistakable figure of a Gran came into view, the tell-tale antennae and ears marking the species even when viewed from behind. The Gran appeared to be viewing the screens. Obi-Wan pushed back his cloak, letting his hand settle on the familiar grip of his lightsabre. They watched as the Gran tapped over the screens - then froze. Obi-Wan shouted “Now!” just as the Gran slammed its hand down on a panel, and the air lit up with the sound of a siren, the blast doorways slamming shut.</p><p>Obi-Wan sprinted, trying to reach the end of the hallway before the door blocked them out. He could feel Anakin at his side, his mind focused and the Force a brilliant glow around him. As he ran, Obi-Wan felt a trill run down his back, and then a millisecond later, the hot brush of superheated plasma rocketed past his face - so close it almost singed his ears - the distinct whirling glow of a green lightsabre blade burying itself into a panel in the doorway. The blast door ground to a halt half-way down, and Obi-Wan slipped through the gap, Anakin at his heels.</p><p>The Gran was yelling orders as it desperately bashed buttons. “Secure the test subject! Despatch the security droids!” it shouted, the screens in front of it flickering off. It reached for a blaster, but Anakin already had his blue blade lit as he leapt through the air. The blaster, and the severed arm of the Gran, clattered against the floor as it collapsed back with a scream. Obi-Wan circled the room, looking for further threats. Pei casually pulled her blade out of the molten ruin of the doors control panel, levelling it at the Gran as she entered the room.</p><p>“Where is Emily?” Pei asked, her voice cool with detachment. The Gran was clutching at the seared stump of its arm.</p><p>“Tell us!” Anakin spat, the tip of his blade coming to rest near the root of it’s three eyestalks. The Gran was trembling, but its voice was surprisingly even when it spoke.</p><p>“What’s the point? He’ll kill me anyway,” he said. Obi-Wan crossed the room, deactivating his lightsabre as he approached the shivering Gran.</p><p>“You’ll be taken into custody, where you will be kept safe. If you tell us where Emily is, it will likely go in your favour when it comes to sentencing,” Obi-Wan said. The Gran laughed, his voice high and trembling, but he refused to say anything more.</p><p>“We don’t have time for this,” Obi-Wan said, looking around the rooms. “Anakin, search the lower levels. If you find Emily, let us know immediately. And be on the lookout for droids, I think he activated some sort of security.”</p><p>“Yes Master,” Anakin said, deactivating his lightsabre and he ran back down the hallway they had come from.</p><p>“I’m going to take the upper levels. Hopefully one of us will find her,” Obi-Wan continued. Pei sheathed her lightsabre and walked over to the control panels.</p><p>“I’ll keep an eye on this one, and see if I’m able to recall the droids from here,” she said. “I’ll try to find out what information I can about this operation - and who is behind it.”</p><p>Obi-Wan nodded, exiting out of the door opposite the corridor they came from. He ran past a series of rooms, some no more than empty supply cupboards - others filled with the leftover scrap and worn-down machinery that indicated this was likely once a factory. He felt a pull towards one of the rooms. It was cleaner than the others - barely. Warning lights throbbed, casting a red glow over a strange padded capsule in the corner. Instruments were scattered around the floor, and there, in the middle of the room, was a deactivated droid, its face plates caved in.</p><p>“Emily,” Obi-Wan said, just as he heard a scream. Then he was running, the blue glow of his lightsabre humming in his hand as he blew out of the room and down the twisted corridors. He could hear the familiar warning beeps, a droid voice demanding, “Surrender yourself for detainment,” as he turned a corner to find Emily crouched behind a large sheet of scrap panelling, her hand pointing some kind of medical vibroblade in the air before her, as she tried to fend off three security droids bearing down on her.</p><p>Obi-Wan watched in slow motion as a taser-dart flew out of a droid, aimed towards Emily’s hand. Reaching out with the Force, he pushed the droid beside it into the darts path, the metal casing lighting up with blue electricity as it shuddered and clattered to the ground, circuits frying. Obi-Wan leapt, twisting through the air to land between Emily and the two other droids, his blade slashing out to cut the nearest one - still tasering it’s partner - in half through the middle. He turned in time for his blue blade to catch the arm of the last droid as it lurched towards him, the metal limb flying away in molten orange sparks. He used a Force push to send the rest of it crashing against the wall.</p><p>Looking around himself and sensing no other danger, Obi-Wan turned to face Emily. He was trying to think of something to say to her in English, preferably something both comforting and witty - but when he caught sight of her properly, the words died in his throat. The woman crouched and trembling behind a plastisteel panel in front of him, looked like a hollow wraith of the woman he had known only two weeks before. Her bloodshot eyes were sunken deep into the dark shadows of her face. Where she had been worryingly thin before - Emily was now just jutting bones under transparent, mottled skin. Crawling up her body, twisting over her scarred flesh and across her gaunt face, were silver wires embedded into her skin in geometric lines like a circuit board, polished studs catching the dull light. A metal tube protruded from the conclave of her stomach.</p><p>“Emily,” he said, reaching his hand out to her. She flinched back, bringing up the tiny vibroblade in front of her again, and that’s when he realised - he could feel her. It was there, colouring the air like jagged notes played off-key. He knew the emotions - had felt them a thousand times before: fear and pain. But it was like they were pushed out from her, settling at odd angles like they didn’t know how to fit in her body. Obi-Wan stepped towards her, but stopped when Emily stumbled back from him. Oh, he thought. He knew that other feeling as well. Fear, pain and the bitter taste of betrayal.</p><p>Obi-Wan was so focused on trying to find the words to convince her to trust him, that he didn’t notice the sharp jab of metal until it landed between his shoulder blades. “Halt,” he heard a droid call, and then his nerves lit up in electric blue fire.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This took me a while to write. I couldn't decide if I should make it into two chapters or keep it as one. Also, I'm not sure I'm all that great at describing fight scenes, lol.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning - attempted suicide in this chapter. Please skip if this is a trigger.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Emily had no idea why, but when Ben collapsed on the ground, arcs of electric blue light forking across his body, she dropped her makeshift weapon and shield and actually reached out to help him. With her <em>hands.</em> Towards a man being <em>tasered</em>. It was possibly the second stupidest thing she’d done in her life; next to the last-minute holiday she decided to book to Cape Verde - because that one had been working out a real treat so far. It seemed Ben realised quicker than she did, because he managed to drag his hand up, limbs jittering, as he yelled out, “No!” and then the next thing Emily knew, she was flying, her body slamming back against the wall so hard it made her teeth rattle and her head swim.</p><p>It also seemed to knock some actual sense in to her, because the minute the ringing stopped and her eyesight cleared, Emily managed to drag herself up, stumbling over numb feet as she started to run. She wasn’t sure what direction she was going in; it could be back the way she came for all she knew - back to the dull rooms and the robots and the pain. She used the walls to keep herself propped up, her body running on nothing but fumes and panic. The corridor took a sharp right, and when she turned the corner, Emily could see a large open doorway.</p><p>It felt like her soul lit up. Hope! Actual to goodness fucking hope. It filled her up like helium - rushed to her head like a first kiss. She could feel a small breeze brush against the fuzz of hair growing back in over her skull, catching on her eyelashes. The air was hot and thick, with the acrid taste of a mouth full of car exhaust fumes, but it was real. It was beautifully, overwhelmingly real. Emily walked towards the opening. A metal walkway stretched beyond the doorway, leading to another strange bullet shaped building, but she wasn’t focusing on that. She could see a small window of sky, getting bigger and bigger as her feet dragged towards it. She couldn’t remember when she’d last seen the sky. It was on the plane, wasn’t it? When the ocean had reached up to swallow them. That sky had been blue and clear and endless. This one was hazy, a dull rust tint to it, like the sunset after a day of scorching heat. It might be the most beautiful thing Emily had ever set her eyes on.</p><p>When she reached the threshold, her mind blanked, but her feet kept pulling her forward like the autopilot switch had been flicked on in her brain. Metal clattered under her bare feet, jagged edges and gaps in the floor let the air trickle over her soles. The railing was twisted and broken in parts, warping under her palm. It didn’t make any sense. Emily was about half-way across when it hit her. She crumpled to her knees like all of her strings had been cut.</p><p>A city stretched out before her, filling everything in sight until its edges blurred into the horizon. She was so high up, it almost looked like it was built out of Lego; just blocks and blocks piled one on top of the other, with decaying skyscrapers - taller than mountains - thrusting out of the ground like pillars made to hold up the sky. Everything was painted in flat grey and faded brown. A few of the towers billowed black smoke that bled into thin wisps of clouds. Emily leaned against the cold splint of railing at her side, twisted her ruined arm around it. She was a burnt-out wreck of a person in a burnt-out wreck of a world. Such wonderful serendipity.</p><p>“Emily?”</p><p>She ignored the voice; a small part of her wondering if he was as tired of saying her name as she was of hearing it. Was this the only world he knew? Did Ben just look around at this endless sea of broken buildings and shattered peaks and think ‘home’? The walkway creaked as he stepped onto it, and Emily finally turned to face him. He was dressed exactly as he had been in the cell, except over everything was a long brown coat that reached to his feet. His hair was sticking out at odd angles, and the pale oatmeal of his pyjamas were dirtied and a little singed. She remembered looking at him once and thinking that he was in the same position as her. Trapped and desperate. That they could escape together - but there was nothing for him to escape to. It was always this - she had just wanted so much to believe the lie that if she fought and clawed hard enough, she could see her family again, rather than face the truth around her.</p><p>“Emily,” he repeated, looking at her so earnestly, extending out his hand as he slowly made his way across the platform towards her. “Please.”</p><p>“I was never going to see them again, was I?” she said, more to herself than to him. She turned back to look out across the world. “You know what’s funny? I think some part of me knew. I just - I just couldn’t face it because if I can’t go home…”</p><p>“Emily please,” Ben said again. He was inching closer with each step. “Let me help you.”</p><p>“It’s alright,” she said. Emily used the rail to hoist herself up. It was surprisingly easy. She felt lighter somehow, like her bones were hollow. She turned back to Ben and gave him a smile. “I can help myself.”</p><p>Then she stepped off the platform.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Obi-Wan launched himself over the railing after her.</p><p>There was less than a heartbeat’s time between the two of them plummeting off the platform, but Emily was already several meters below him. Obi-Wan reached out, drawing the Force to him, wrapping it around the thin limbs and fragile outline of her body; a pale glint against the smoke blackened buildings she was hurtling towards. He called her to him; gathered and pulled at the Force that lay within and around her, twisted and weaved it to his own, until she was close enough that he could reach out and draw her into his arms. Emily tensed the minute he wrapped himself around her. Panic bubbled out around him; her hands scrabbled and grasped at the billowing cloak on his back, as she pleaded “No…no!” against his shoulder. Obi-Wan cupped a hand to her head, pressed his cheek to the raised scars, all of his focus concentrated on projecting the calm stillness of sleep on to her mind. Her body loosened against him; her head slumped as she slipped under.</p><p>He hated doing it. It felt like one more thing forced on Emily against her will - but they’d both end up red smears on a dirty duracrete rooftop if he had to struggle against her while trying to safely land them. It felt like they’d been falling for hours, but in reality, only a few seconds had passed; adrenaline sharpened the senses, stretching out each moment. Obi-Wan searched for a platform or port or any flat surface he could direct them towards, but the tower was smooth, curving lines all the way down. He fixed an arm around Emily’s waist, reaching for the grappling hook on his belt. If he could stop their descent, then he could focus on finding a gap or break in the façade that he could pull them into.</p><p>Obi-Wan’s body snapped to a halt in the middle of the air. It was like a hand had grabbed the back of his belt and tugged. “I’ve got you Master!”</p><p>He turned to see his padawan half hanging out of a small gap in the buildings’ wall. He was clinging to a metal column with one hand, his other stretched out towards them, trembling with the tremendous effort of keeping them suspended. Obi-Wan added his own strength to the connection, buoying them up as Anakin reeled them in, tugging his shoulders through the split panel, as the three of them collapsed in a tangle of limbs against a stained metal floor.</p><p>“Master, are you alright?” Anakin asked. He helped Obi-Wan to his knees, both of them looking down at Emily’s sprawled out body. Even the dim light of the recess, couldn’t disguise the full horror of what had been inflicted on her.</p><p>“What did they do to her?” Anakin whispered, his hand reaching out to gently touch one of the overlapping sections of embedded wires on her neck.</p><p>Obi-Wan pulled off his cloak, easing it around her body. “I don’t know, but we’re going to find out. Where’s Pei?”</p><p>“Master Pelri is still with the prisoner. I was on my way back to her position, before I sensed your fall, Master.”</p><p>“Raise her on your comms,” Obi-Wan said, carefully tucking Emily against his chest before rising to his feet. “We need to get back to the Temple.”</p><p>Anakin pulled his comlink from his belt. “Master Pelri?”</p><p>“Skywalker,” Pei replied, her voice tinged with the crackle of static. “Have you located Emily?”</p><p>“We have her Pei,” Obi-Wan said, weaving his way through the rust bitten walls of the building. Anakin moved ahead of him, leading them out. “It’s worse than we feared. I think they’ve been using her for some sort of experiment.”</p><p>“I know,” Pei said, the sharp bite in her voice coming through the receiver. “I’ve broken the encryption on some of the databanks here, and I’m forwarding everything I can find on to the Archive technicians. I’m going to stay until we have all of it. The two of you should get back to the Temple. I’ll comms Doctor Nema, so she’ll be waiting for your arrival.”</p><p>“Do you know <em>why</em> they did this?” Obi-Wan asked, as they ran down corridors strewn with scattered droid parts. Anakin had obviously been kept busy.</p><p>“I have an idea, but until I can decrypt the rest of this, I can’t say for sure. Just get Emily back to the Temple’s medical bay, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.” The comlink clicked off.</p><p>It took them a few minutes to find their way back to the small dock they’d initially landed on. The underside of the air-taxi was still fizzing with exposed wires from where the floor had sheared some of the casing off.</p><p>“Is it safe to fly?” Obi-Wan asked, reluctant to put Emily down in anything leaking that much smoke.</p><p>“Yeah, it’ll be fine!” Anakin said, jumping into the front. With no alternative vehicles in sight, Obi-Wan climbed in the back, settling Emily down along the seats. He pressed a hand to her cheek, felt the flutter of her presence in the Force. The airship lifted, tilting for a second as it shuddered and righted itself. Obi-Wan sent a glare to the back of his padawan’s head. Anakin turned around to add a wide-eyed, “…I think?”</p><p>“Just get us back to the Temple in one piece,” Obi-Wan said, crouching down next to Emily as they zipped out of the tower. Anakin weaved through the jutting spires and low, broken domes that dotted the Industrial sector, but Obi-Wan wasn’t paying attention to any of it. He couldn’t stop staring at Emily’s face, noticing every new scar and mark, the thin blue web of veins now visible under her skin. All he could think about was finding her crumpled up on that walkway, the air around her trembling with such utter despair. And when she had stood, eyes hollow, that heartbroken little smile on her face, as she said she could take care of herself. He hadn’t felt anything coming from her then - it was like she was empty.</p><p>“Master,” Anakin called, “we’re coming in to land, but uh, you might want to hold onto something.”</p><p>“What? Why?” Obi-Wan said, looking up. They were heading straight for the Temple’s roof docks, gunning at a faster speed than they should be on entry. Anakin was bashing at buttons and switches on the flight control panel.</p><p>“I can’t reverse the thrusters,” he said, looking back with a grimace. “I’m going to have to take us in hot.”</p><p>“Oh, in the name of…” Obi-Wan threw himself on top of Emily, bracing for impact as the air-taxi slammed into the ground, the screeching rip of metal on duracrete filling the air, smoke billowing up through gaps in the casing. The engine panels blared warnings as they eventually slid to a stop. He heard the sound of feet running towards them.</p><p>“Where is she?” Doctor Nema said, her voice coming from directly above him. Obi-Wan looked up to see that she’d practically climbed up onto the side panels. He moved back, revealing Emily bundled up underneath him. The Doctor took one look at her and blanched, motioning over to the healers behind her.</p><p>“Put her onto the hoverbed,” she said to Obi-Wan, before slipping back to the ground. He carefully picked Emily up - she was still unconscious and limp in his arms. A lurch of worry ran through him. What if he’d gone too far? It could be dangerous, pressing on someone’s mind like that. Obi-Wan had always been careful when using the Force to alter someone’s consciousness - but he had been falling through the air when he did this to her. What if she didn’t wake up?</p><p>Obi-Wan pulled himself from his thoughts, jumping down from the vehicle to place Emily gently on the bed. The Doctor unwrapped his cloak from around her, eyes wide as she looked over the damage it concealed. “Run ahead and prep a surgical room,” she instructed to one of the healers, before activating the hoverbed. They kept up a brisk pace as Doctor Nema pulled up an array of screens and bioscans.</p><p>“Access stents placed in both the superior and inferior vena cava, and in each side of the subclavian and femoral veins. Electronic nodes implanted across peripheral and central nervous system. Some sort of electrical matrix inlaid and linked to the bodies nerve fibres. A monitoring system perhaps?”</p><p>Another screen flicked up, detailing the internal structure of the tube in Emily’s stomach. It showed three lines, branching out from a front access port, into Emily’s body.</p><p>“What is that?” Anakin asked.</p><p>“Crude,” Doctor Nema said with a scowl, “and utterly unnecessary. My scans indicate no damage to Emily’s bladder, stomach or bowels. This was probably installed to bypass the need for her physical cooperation in whatever they were doing - barbaric.”</p><p>They passed through the Temple’s halls, their procession catching the attention of passing Jedi, who stopped to stare at the curious group. Had it really only been a few hours ago that Obi-Wan had walked down these same halls, nothing but a vague unease prompting him into action? So many times, he had tried to dismiss those feelings. What if he had been successful? What would have happened to Emily if he had followed his training and let go of his emotions?</p><p>Obi-Wan found himself stopped by Doctor Nema’s hand on his shoulder. “We’re taking Emily into surgery,” she said, indicating the door he had tried to follow them through. “There is nothing you can do for her at the moment. If you wish - you may watch the procedure from the observation bay.”</p><p>With that, she and her team stepped inside the gleaming white operation room, Emily’s little form disappearing from his sight as the doors shut and sealed behind them. Anakin put a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.</p><p>“She’s going to be alright Master,” his padawan said. Obi-Wan turned to him. Wasn’t it his role as a Master, to be comforting Anakin, and not the other way around? Obi-Wan patted Anakin’s shoulder in return.</p><p>“Let’s go up to the observation bay. Hopefully, it won’t be long until Master Pelri returns, and we might finally get some answers to what’s going on here.”</p><p>As it turned out, he was summoned to the Council chambers long before Pei’s return. He had been meditating in one of the chairs when his comslink buzzed with the message. Obi-Wan had stopped watching the procedure shortly after the removal of the access tube in Emily’s stomach. It had been a grisly business, and with no compatible bacta, Doctor Nema had to resort to more primitive methods to close over her wounds, in order to prevent infection. It was due to the possibility of causing further damage, that the operation to remove the stents and wires from Emily’s skin was still ongoing. Any injury to the delicate nervous system could cause permanent impairment, which meant that Doctor Nema had to carefully extract each one. Obi-Wan swiftly left for the Council chambers, letting Anakin stay under the instructions that he communicate immediately should anything happen during the operation.</p><p>“Master Kenobi,” Mace Windu said in greeting, when he entered the Council chambers via the turbolift. “We were just informing the Chancellor of your discovery.”</p><p>“Master Kenobi,” Chancellor Palpatine said, his holo-image, in the centre of the Council floor, revolving to face Obi-Wan. “You have my sincerest thanks for your uncovering of this travesty. That Emily was taken without our knowledge, and subjected to such horrifying treatment, is something that I promise will be investigated both by the Senate, and the Coruscant Authorities. This grave injustice will not go unpunished.”</p><p>“Thank you, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan said, with a bow.</p><p>“Master Pelri gave us a brief summary of the situation via her comms message to Doctor Nema. We were hoping you could provide us with a full report on your unofficial investigation,” Master Mundi said.</p><p>Obi-Wan did not miss the slight reproval in the use of the word ‘unofficial’. But, given that he was about to start his report with, ‘I had a feeling’, it was unlikely to be the last one he’d hear this afternoon. The Council did not approve of actions based on feelings, and as just about everything he’d done since dawn was based on nothing else, Obi-Wan was about to be on the receiving end of some very judgemental stares.</p><p>With a deep breath, he launched into his report, starting from the conversation with Doctor Nema on his return from the Pijal mission. He described the confusion at the Institute where Emily should have been residing. Anakin’s discovery of the comms source coming from the abandoned tower in The Works. The capture of the Gran seemingly responsible for conducting the experiments. Obi-Wan paused when he came to the part of finding Emily on the tower walkway.</p><p>“Master Kenobi?” Yoda prompted.</p><p>“When I had disabled the last of the security droids,” Obi-Wan continued, reluctance sitting heavy in his chest. It felt like something too personal to share, without Emily’s consent. “I discovered Emily on the bridge between two sections of the tower. When I approached her - she was incredibly distraught. It was…it was as if she had lost everything. I tried to convince her to return with me, but she chose to jump instead.”</p><p>“She attempted suicide?” Master Windu asked.</p><p>“Yes Master. I managed to catch her, and thanks to Anakin’s impressive use of the Force, we were able to get her back inside the building safely. At which point, we returned to the Temple.”</p><p>The room filled with a contemplative silence. The Chancellor was the first one to break it. He had given Obi-Wan his full attention during the report, and it was to Obi-Wan he addressed his speech.</p><p>“What a heart-breaking situation,” he said, shaking his head in sympathy. “I must commend you Master Kenobi, for the great insight and compassion you have shown throughout this. A compassion, I fear, we may have lacked when considering how best to proceed with so unique an individual as Emily.</p><p>“I see now that we were wrong to have her transferred from the Temple - and not only due to this deception you have exposed. I believe, even had she arrived at the most excellent research facilities we had arranged for her, Emily may have suffered greatly by being removed from the care and considerations of Masters Kenobi and Pelri, and the medical attentions of Doctor Nema. It is my request now that Emily remain within the Jedi Temple, in the care of Master Kenobi, where she can be protected from any external machinations on her person - and perhaps with time - her physical and mental wellbeing can be repaired in the care of her new friends.”</p><p>More than a few eyebrows were raised around the Council chambers at this, Obi-Wan’s included. While the Chancellor was always respectful and appreciative of the Jedi’s efforts, it was rare for him to be so fulsome in his praise - unless it was towards Anakin.</p><p>“I’m not so sure that would be a wise decision,” Master Windu said. “The Temple is a sanctuary and place of learning for the Jedi Order. Having someone, even as a temporary guest, who is struggling with such a strong emotional upheaval as Emily is, could upset the delicate harmony we have built here.”</p><p>“Surely, the strength and unity of ten thousand years of Jedi traditions, would not be undone by one emotional young woman?” the Chancellor said, his amusement apparent in his voice. “If anything, the calm and serenity of the Jedi Temple, and the discipline of its inhabitants, is more likely to imbue her with your Orders admirable serenity. If she is unable to find peace under the care of the galaxy’s peacekeepers, then I fear she will not find it anywhere. At least in the Temple, we can be assured of her safety.”</p><p>“Agree with you, the Council does,” Master Yoda said, though the frown as he said it, showed his misgivings. “Hope we still have, that Emily’s home-world we will find. Until then, within our care, held she will be.”</p><p>“You have my thanks,” the Chancellor said with a smile. “Please keep me informed of her recovery.” The blue hologram winked out, leaving only Jedi in the room.</p><p>“Master Kenobi,” Ki-Adi-Mundi said, “You and your padawan will be assigned to Emily’s care, until such time as she can be returned to her home-world, or more suitable accommodation can be found for her. You are expected to continue your efforts to establish communication and to aid in her recovery from this unfortunate ordeal.”</p><p>“Yes Master.”</p><p>“Master Pelri will be assigned to help you in this,” Mace Windu added. “Not that we’d be able to convince her otherwise.”</p><p>“Thank you Master,” Obi-Wan said, a rush of relief running through him. At least he would still have Pei with him on this. He bowed as he left the chambers, his mind already racing with the enormity of the task ahead. It was all very well and good to assign her to his care, but Obi-Wan remembered, vividly, Emily’s reaction to him when he found her in the tower - her fear and distrust of him tainting the air. Success in his new assignment now lay in winning that trust back, and Obi-Wan had a terrible feeling that Emily would not make it easy for him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks to everyone for the lovely feedback on that last chapter. I'm really glad your all enjoying the story so far. I hope your sitting comfortably though, because there's still so much to go. I have a terrible, wonderful feeling that this is going to be the longest longfic ever. I just have so much planned!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Well, Emily had to admit, you could accuse the sadist robot bastards of a lot of things (and she had a <em>long</em> list), but you couldn’t accuse them of not having a sense of humour. When she opened her eyes, it was to the same familiar, smooth grey ceiling she’d first woken up to after the crash. Emily let her gaze settle on it, patiently waiting for her mind to catch up. When the blurred edges of her sight smoothed over, she let her head flop to the side. Grey panelled walls with their embedded lights and flickering screens glinted back at her, as though she’d never left. There, just past the jut of her feet, the wide window stretched out, her cosplay voyeurs in their usual places, staring back at her through their strange masks - or not masks. Maybe that’s how they were designed to look, by whoever made them.</p><p>“Emily,” <em>he</em> said, at the other side of her. And of course, <em>he</em> would be here. She laughed, a tiny hiccup of sound bubbling out. It was utterly fucking hilarious - all of it. After everything she’d been through, they just put her back in here; in the same tiny dull room, on the same tiny hard bed and they what? Expected her to just pretend and go back to being a good little guinea pig, like she’d been before? Jesus Christ, they were a bunch of fucking comedians.</p><p>Emily was properly laughing now too; deep gasping chuckles that felt like they were punching their way out of her aching stomach. She had to press the heels of her hands into her eyeballs, just to stop them from feeling like they were trying to explode out of her head. Emily could smell it too, the chemical tang of the gel bandages swaddled around her body. It felt like they’d cocooned her in them; maybe hoping she’d eventually burst out like a beautiful butterfly - and weren’t they going to be really fucking disappointed?</p><p><em>He</em> said her name again, this time closer - too close. Emily felt the press of his hand on her shoulder and just like that, it wasn’t funny anymore. Revulsion - the taste hot like bile in her mouth, swept over her at the heat of his skin on hers. “Don’t touch me,” she spat, blood and adrenaline rushing up to fill her head and pound in her ears, as she rolled off the bed. Emily couldn’t remember having ever felt so much hatred in her body for someone. It felt like an anchor in her gut, keeping her legs steady on the ground, fuelling the fire burning through her muscles. She paced the room, head down, breathing in that feeling of rage like it was oxygen, avoiding even the sight of his face.</p><p>Then she spotted it. The steel bowl and spoon sat next to the bed, filled with that tasteless paste they were always trying to get her to eat. And wasn’t that kind of them; to not just force it through a tube in her stomach like they had before? Emily figured she should probably show her appreciation of the gesture. She stooped down, ignoring the tight wrench of pain from her belly, and grabbed the metal edge, feeling the solid heft of it as she pulled the bowl into her hands. She lifted out the spoon, taking a moment to watch the gelatinous goop roll down the handle, then, with everything she had, Emily launched the bowl at the faces peering back at her through the glass screen.</p><p>The wide arcing spray of grey mush that splattered over the window and walls, as the metal bowl bounced against the flat glass was, quite simply, glorious. Beautiful. A work of fucking art. Ben said something from behind her, but Emily was too filled with inspiration to even pretend to give a fuck what he had to say. The spoon was steady and reassuring in her hand. Emily figured she’d test out that old plan of hers, the one she’d formulated before they decided to take her away and torture her.</p><p>Emily launched herself at one of the screens imbedded in the wall. She jammed the sharp edge of the spoon behind one of the raised bevels around the glowing blue glass, using both of her hands to lever it open until she could wedge her fingers in. She leaned back, using her weight to tug until the cover wrenched free, revealing a tangle of wires beneath. Excellent, maybe if she was lucky, she could electrocute herself <em>and</em> set the place on fire. Just as she buried her hands into the hot static mass of cables, two bigger hands clamped over her wrists and hauled her away. Ben was solid at her back, his grip tight against her, and Emily buckled and kicked and tried to twist out of his grasp, but he might as well have been rooted to the ground for all the difference her struggling made. He caged her against the wall; she could feel his breath hot on her neck as he said, “Emily, stop! Please stop.”</p><p>Like fuck she was going to stop. She tried to get her knees up to the wall, using it to push back against him, but he didn’t even flinch as she kicked out. “I’m not going to stop,” she gasped, trying to stamp down on his feet. “I’m going to fight you every second I’m awake. I’ll fucking chew through my own wrists if I have to. If you tie me down again, I’ll just stop fucking breathing. Don’t you get it? Let. Me. Die. You. Robot. Fucks.”</p><p>Then Emily lunged forward and bit down on Ben’s hand as hard as she could. He yelled from behind her, loud in her ear, as the salt copper tang of blood burst in her mouth. Oh, maybe he wasn’t a robot after all. Emily kicked out again, and this time he did stumble back, his grip on her hands loosening enough that she managed to pull free. He was too close to the panel wires for her to go back down that route, so instead, Emily looked for the metal bowl around the ground near the window. On finding it, she picked it up, catching for a second the horrifying reflection of her face in the window, eyes wild and blood smeared and dripping down her chin. Then she fixed her eyes on the cosplayers behind the glass, brought up the bowl, and started to pound its metal side against the window, the surface of it vibrating with each blow, numbing her fingers and jarring her arm. The cosplayers stepped back - Goldfinger had her hand up at her chest, mouth open. If she was shocked now, then just wait. Emily was pretty sure she could tear this place apart, running on nothing but anger.</p><p>Then she caught sight of a wide-eyed face staring back at her, and all Emily could think was - Jamie? But it wasn’t Jamie; it was the boy from before. He had the same short, dirty blonde hair as her nephew, she realised, but that was the only real similarity. Jamie was ten and played football and obsessed over Minecraft Youtube videos even though he never seemed to play the game. Jamie was bright and overactive and had started to develop a sharp, sarcastic attitude which exasperated everyone, but always secretly made Emily proud. Jamie wasn’t here - had maybe never existed here - and Emily would never get to watch him grow up; would never know what kind of man he’d become. The bowl slipped from her hands and rang against the floor.</p><p>It abandoned her as fast as it came - the rage. She tried to hold on to it, needed it to keep her going, because as it slipped away, Emily realised that underneath it all was just emptiness. She couldn’t keep fighting if she was empty. And God, she was exhausted. A tremble started from her feet, moving up in a wave through her body. She slumped down against the wall, turning just enough to prop herself up. Emily saw Ben standing at the edge of the room, his left hand covering his mouth, his right one dripping blood onto the floor. He looked horrified. Emily leaned back, trying to battle the creeping exhaustion. She didn’t want to pass out and find herself strapped back in the box again. She just wanted it all to be over.</p><p>There was a sound to her right, a small whoosh and a puff of air stirred the hair on her head. Turning, Emily watched as the little green build-a-bear hobbled in, hunched over and leaning on a tiny knobbly stick that clicked where it hit the ground. She had never seen it walk before, had only seen it floating on a platform. Emily just figured that it wasn’t a walking robot like the rest of them. It came to a stop in front of her; it’s wrinkled, pointy-eared face on level with her own. Mossy green eyes, surprisingly life-like, stared back at her. A prickle ran over Emily’s skin, making her shiver.</p><p>“What are you here to do?” she asked, her voice rough from shouting. The build-a-bear just kept looking at her. “If you’re here in the hopes that I’ll hug it all out like the Care Bears, then you’re gonna be really fucking disappointed.”</p><p>Its face shifted and moved, ears lowering and stretching out. It made a low noise, like a hum, and leaned towards her ever so slightly. Emily found herself leaning forwards a little too. And then whack! Quick like a snake, the little bastard snapped his hand forward and smacked Emily with his walking stick - right between her eyes.</p><p>“Ow, you little…what the fuck?!” she said, bringing her hand up to rub at her forehead.</p><p>It hadn’t hit her hard, in fact it barely even stung, but the surprise of it had Emily blinking in disbelief as the thing pointed it’s stick at her and commanded, in low, gravelly English: “Follow!” She watched as it turned without another word, and slowly clicked its way back out the door.</p><p>“Follow!” was heard again, fainter as it came from the room beyond. She wasn’t sure why, but Emily turned to look at Ben, who was still standing there, bleeding all over the floor, with a face that almost looked as surprised as she felt. He caught her gaze, and nodded his head in the direction of her tiny attacker.</p><p>“You follow,” Ben said, approaching her and cautiously offering the hand she hadn’t bit. Emily ignored it; shuffling onto her side and then pulling herself up using the wall. Without the anger, every small movement she made felt like it took everything from her. She fumbled a little on unsteady feet towards the door, pausing at the threshold, the room beyond open to her. It was a trick, wasn’t it? They would just lead her to another horrible place for another horrible round of experiments. Then again, if they wanted to, they could just knock her out and do that anyway. At least this way, she had a small chance to run or fight.</p><p>Emily stepped into the room that she’d only ever glimpsed from behind glass. It used to have lots of glowing, spinning things inside it, but now it was empty. The cosplayers watched her as she passed, standing back to give her space. They looked so real up-close. She could see the fine lines and wrinkles over the tanned skin of the one called Pea. Long, feathery eyelashes, each one like a moth’s antenna, rimmed the silvery-mint green eyes of Goldfinger. The boy was there too, as gangly and slim as he had looked from the cell. He watched Emily intently as she passed; a shiver running down her neck when the air around him brushed against her body, strangely thick over her skin. A glance back showed everyone still rooted in place; no-one made a move to follow her. She passed through into a short corridor, the build-a-bear was waiting for her at the other end. Emily nearly fell on top of the little gremlin when she reached its side, her knees going weak at the sight of what lay beyond the door.</p><p>A hallway stretched out in front of her. Well - a hallway in the same way the Pyramids could be thought of as a stack of bricks in some sand. Hundreds of pillars stretched out, each one wider than any tree trunk, smooth silver and ebony layers reaching up hundreds of feet, supporting a vaulted roof of carved rose-pink stone, translucent like a seashell. Archway after archway lined the room, gleaming amber light across massive floors of golden marble and turquoise inlay. Voices murmured and echoed all around, people moving across raised walkways, or passing underneath them on the lower levels. Emily found herself sliding down the doorway until she was sat on the floor.</p><p>“What do you want from me?” she eventually managed to say. Figures dressed in every shade of brown conceivable, some human looking - others fantastical - walked by them, talking and laughing, as though it was just a normal day. The build-a-bear had been watching her silently. It took a few steps towards her, holding her eye for a long moment before nodding, its ears drooping. It reached a little clawed hand out and patted her on the knee. Then it turned and slowly waddled away, hunched over its stick, leaving Emily alone in the warm, amber light of a startling new world.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm excited for some of the upcoming chapters. You only ever see the Jedi Temple in the movies as just folk walking around hallways. What the hell do Jedi do all day? It can't just be going from one end of the Temple to the other. So that's what I'm looking forward to exploring a bit more. The sort of day to day stuff I wish we could have seen more of in the movies and TV shows, but never really got to.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Plasma sparked and fizzled. The air hummed, hot against his sweat-soaked skin. Block. Feign. Strike. Parry. There was a rhythm to fighting; a beat overlaid with the vibrant song of the Force, threading its way through everything. It was in his feet; bare against the marble floor as he danced and weaved back and forth. Advance. Retreat. Advance again. It was in his hands; gripped tight around the steel of his lightsabre, burning molten heat into his palm from being ignited for so long. It was even there, in the predictable patterns and motions of the training droids, as they swirled around him, their blades flashing through the air, bright slashes of colour alongside his own. They fought, as they had been programmed to, but it was without intelligence or skill. The three droids simply tried to bludgeon him down with brute force, not using their numbers to strike an advantage. Not varying their style in response to his movements. He could have ended the fight over an hour ago, but he wasn’t here to train or refine his technique. He was here simply to fight. To be active. To feel useful. To do <em>something</em>.</p><p>He ducked under a high sweeping cut aimed at his neck, pivoted to parry a lower blow directed at his knee. This was where Form III shone; in these tight quarter situations, enemies all around, his lightsabre creating a searing blue shield about him, impenetrable so long as he trusted in the Force to guide his hand. The room’s lights suddenly brightened to a white glare, throwing him off for a millisecond - just enough time for a green blade to singe along his leg, as he was forced to jump from the fray to a clearing at the far end of the room.</p><p>“Thought I might find you hiding in one of these rooms, Obi-Wan,” Pei said, wandering into the room and seemingly entirely unconcerned that her interruption had nearly gotten his leg fried.</p><p>“Cease training simulation,” Obi-Wan panted, as the droids turned in unison to follow him. As one, the droids shut off their training-sabres and sedately walked towards their charging stations at the other end of the room. “Did Master Rancisis never teach you to knock, Pei?”</p><p>“No,” she replied, picking up a towel from one of the benches and tossing it to him. Obi-Wan caught it by the ends of his fingertips. “He had far more valuable lessons for me. Like teaching me not to hide away while taking my frustrations out on training droids. You know, that sort of thing.”</p><p>“I am not hiding,” Obi-Wan said, his breathing evening out as he ran the towel over his face and neck. Now that he was out of combat and not immersed in the Force, Obi-Wan could feel the ache in his overworked body. He was going to regret training so hard tomorrow. “And trust me, I’m far more useful here than I would be otherwise.”</p><p>“Really?” Pei replied, gathering together her long robe as she settled herself down on one of the window recesses. “Is that why I seem to only ever see your padawan with Emily? Because you’re too busy in here being <em>useful</em>?”</p><p>“You must have felt how she reacted to me, Pei,” Obi-Wan said, smoothing his hair back. He walked over to the window where she was sat, but didn’t take a seat, instead choosing to lean against the lintel. He was worried if he sat down, he may never get back up again. “I hate to admit it, but I think Master Windu may have been correct in his objections.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“Emily’s filled with fear and anger - especially towards me. Everything she feels is so…loud, it’s like it screams out of her.” Obi-Wan could still vividly remember the wave of repulsion that had crawled through the air when he’d touched her. He’d never felt anything so visceral - especially directed towards him. “It’s frankly unsettling, and much too close to the Darkside of the Force. Her possible influence on the Temple and the other Jedi here…”</p><p>Obi-Wan spotted a tremble in Pei’s shoulders out of the corner of his eye. When he turned to look at her properly, she had her hand up at her face, trying to stifle her laughter.</p><p>“I’m being serious Pei,” Obi-Wan said, straightening up as he crossed his arms.</p><p>“I know,” she replied, running a hand along one of her faceflaps. “That’s what makes it so amusing. You can be so melodramatic at times.”</p><p>“I don’t see how this is one of those times,” he pointed out, frowning. “Fear. Anger. Hatred. They all lead to the Darkside. This is something we’ve been trained to be vigilant against all of our lives - even you.”</p><p>Pei sucked in a breath and blew it out in a long sigh, her eyes rolling up at him as though he was being a dense padawan that she now needed to lecture. “Yes, as Jedi we must guard ourselves from such feelings, because as <em>Jedi</em> we hold a great amount of responsibility and power, which we may at times be called upon to exert over others. Emily is not a Jedi. She’s the same as all the other hundred trillion or so people in this Galaxy, who probably experience all those same dark emotions on a near weekly basis, and don’t wake up to find themselves Sith Lords in the morning.”</p><p>“Yes, but they’re not all running around inside our Temple, either,” Obi-Wan said, pushing off from the window, to pace across the smooth gold and grey floors. “This is meant to be our refuge. Where the Jedi can recuperate and immerse themselves in the Lightside of the Force. Where we train our younglings and padawans to let go of their emotions. How can we ask them to do that, when there’s someone walking around, spilling their emotions all over the place?”</p><p>“The only Jedi who seems to be having difficulty with Emily’s feelings is you, Obi-Wan,” Pei replied, the humour now gone from her features. “All I’ve heard you repeat, is a very well-rehearsed list of excuses for why you seem to have abandoned the task set to you by the Council, on to your padawan.”</p><p>“I…that’s not…” Obi-Wan said, stopping in his tracks as he struggled to find the words to refute her. Because it wasn’t just excuses, was it? These were valid fears. It was wise to be cautious against such things. Just because he was struggling, it didn’t mean he was shirking his duties as a Master - or to the Council…did it? Obi-Wan groaned, rubbing his hands across his face.</p><p>“I feel so useless, Pei,” he finally admitted, shoulders slumping as if the confession had lifted a weight from him. “All my attempts to help have not been well received. Emily may not be angry at me, but she’s not exactly pleased to have me around either. She only tends to respond to Anakin now; when she’s even responding at all. There’s been a few days where she’s done nothing but lie in her bed, not moving - not even eating. Other days she seems to just walk around aimlessly - or she’ll sit outside for hours at a time, on one of the exterior balconies, watching the traffic flow through the sky-lanes around the Temple. And Anakin…”</p><p>Anakin just instinctively seemed to know what to do. On the days when Emily didn’t move from her bed - Anakin would sit there beside her, sometimes for the entire day. Most of the time it was in silence, but sometimes he would talk to her, voice low and soft in the stillness of the room. He’d talk about the Temple; about missions they’d been on and the planet’s they’d seen. One time, Obi-Wan overheard him talking quietly about Tatooine, while Emily lay beside him, her little hand held in his. He talked about working in Wattos shop, winning the Podrace that freed him, the friends he’d made there and left behind. He talked to Emily about his mother, about the house that they had lived in, and his favourite meals that she would cook for him. He talked about how bright the stars were at night, how she would tell him stories under their sparkling glow, holding him tight against the evening chill as she smoothed down his hair with a kiss, telling him how he’d see all those stars himself one day.</p><p>Obi-Wan had listened unnoticed by the door, his heart in his throat. This was the divide between them that Obi-Wan had never been able to breach with Anakin. Leaving everything he’d known - his home, his friends…his mother. Obi-Wan had never experienced that kind of loss. Even when Qui-Gon had died, Obi-Wan still had his home and family - he still had the Jedi Order to comfort and guide him. He’d tried to be that for Anakin too, but at times, he just didn’t feel enough. Now he had two people he was letting down, instead of one. Pei was right; he was hiding. Hiding from the truth of his own failures. He had to do better; for Emily - and for Anakin.</p><p>“You’re right,” he admitted, pulling himself from his thoughts. “I’ve been an idiot.”</p><p>“Well naturally I’m right,” Pei said, patting the seat on the bench beside her. Obi-Wan moved to sit next to her, feeling every inch the scolded padawan. “And of course you’re an idiot. Like I said before - you’ve probably lost about six percent of your cognitive function from all the times I’ve seen you be punched - and you weren’t all that bright a spark to start off with.”</p><p>Obi-Wan laughed, slumping further. He really had messed up. He needed to set things right. “I have to go and speak with Anakin.”</p><p>“Wait one moment,” Pei said, tugging him back down by his sleeve as he started to rise. “Contrary to what it may seem, I didn’t actually come down here to point out the obvious. I had thought that you would be interested in hearing a summary of the findings from my investigation, before I present them to the Council this afternoon.”</p><p>“From your investigation into the facility we found Emily in?”</p><p>“The very one,” she said, fixing the lines of her robe.</p><p>“You managed to decrypt all the files?”</p><p>“Eventually, yes.”</p><p>“And?” Obi-Wan prompted. It wasn’t like Pei to be shy when talking about the results of her work. “What did you find?”</p><p>“I found detailed plans for a poorly conceived and ultimately fruitless experiment to try and influence the midi-chlorian count in Emily’s quickly adapting biology,” Pei said. She ran a hand over the smooth dome of her head, trailing it down to scratch at her chin. “The theory, was that Emily’s cells were in a receptive state, acquiring midi-chlorians - from the air, from digesting food and so on - in a way that has never been observed before in a living being. They thought that by bombarding her body with midi-chlorians, via things like blood transfusions and transcutaneous electro-neural stimulation, her cells would take on more midi-chlorians than they had initially.”</p><p>“Did it work?”</p><p>“Of course not,” she scoffed, her dark eyes narrowing. “The whole premise is based on an entirely scientific but utterly flawed theory, that midi-chlorians and the Force they connect us to, can be quantified and manipulated in measurable ways against their will. It was founded in a theory of action and reaction; cause and effect. They could not conceive or account for the fact that the Force is not something which can be neatly boxed up and labelled.”</p><p>Pei sighed, then shook her head, turning to meet Obi-Wan’s eyes. “All of those cruel and painful procedures - the heartless suffering they placed Emily under - all for nothing. Her midi-chlorian count is the same as it was when I’d first noted the changes to her cells, all those weeks ago - just under three thousand - which puts her around average for most people in the Galaxy. Not even a blip on the map of Force sensitivity.”</p><p>“That doesn’t explain why she feels so loud,” Obi-Wan said, trying not to think about what those procedures may have looked like on Emily. He’d seen more than enough already, just witnessing the additional scars they’d left on her already scarred body.</p><p>“Even the quietest instrument in an orchestra, will sound loud when played out of tune. Maybe her body hasn’t figured out how to harmonize yet.”</p><p>“Well, aren’t you just filled with pearls of wisdom today?” he mused, looking at his friend. It was so strange to think that they’d been crèchemates together, long ago. “You’ll be vying for Master Yoda’s position next.”</p><p>“No thank you,” Pei replied, rising onto her feet. “Spelling things out to the foolish is really rather exhausting. Master Yoda is much better suited to it than me. I’m going to stick to my lab and my devices, they’re far less bothersome. But first, I’m going for my noonday meal. I missed it while trawling through the Temple trying to find you.”</p><p>Obi-Wan got to his feet too, with more than one muscle protesting. He followed Pei as she started to walk towards the door. “Thank you, Pei. I really do appreciate your guidance.”</p><p>“Yes well, someone has to keep you right,” Pei said, stopping at the door to regard him. “Now go talk to that padawan of yours. He’s a good sort - though he could do with a bit more of your temperament.”</p><p>“Oh, and before I forget,” she said, turning back to him. “I had been meaning to give you this to pass on to Emily.”</p><p>Pei reached into her utility belt pouch, and pulled out a small white stone on a long silver chain. It hung in the air, catching the light in a little flash of blues and greens. “What is it?” Obi-Wan asked.</p><p>“Some sort of ornamentation I would imagine,” she replied, observing as the stone slowly spun, the colours shifting and changing as it did. “It was around her neck when she was first brought in. Doctor Nema had to surgically remove it, as it was embedded into some of the burned tissue on her chest. The stone appears to be damaged I’m afraid. Its silica based and likely cracked due to expanding in the heat of the crash. Damaged or not though, it could be of importance to her, and I’m sure she’ll be happy to have it back. It may even act as a small step in regaining her trust.”</p><p>Obi-Wan stretched out his palm, the cool touch of the stone settling in the middle as the silver chain snaked down till it covered over it. “Thank you. I’ll make sure she receives it.”</p><p>With nothing more than a nod of acknowledgement, Pei turned away, walking down the blue-lit corridors of the training dojo. Obi-Wan regarded the little stone in his hand for a moment, before tucking it into his belt-pouch. While it was tempting to just head straight to the guestrooms in the hopes of speaking to Anakin there, Obi-Wan figured it would be common courtesy to take a shower and change his clothes beforehand. Apologies had slightly less of a positive impact when you looked a mess and smelled of sweat.</p><p>He was half way to his quarters when Anakin stumbled around the corner, running directly towards him.</p><p>“Master, I was looking for you!” he said, panting a little. Obi-Wan felt the familiar drop in his stomach that told him to brace himself.</p><p>“Is everything alright?”</p><p>“Yes. Well, I think so,” Anakin replied, feet twitching where he stood. “Honestly Master, I’m not sure. I had an idea, and kind of did a thing and then Emily sort of-”</p><p>Obi-Wan began to run towards the guest quarters the moment Anakin said that he’d had an idea. Usually when Anakin started his sentences with ‘I had an idea’, it ended in crashed ships, destroyed buildings and crumbling diplomatic relations. When he reached Emily’s guest quarters, Obi-Wan opened the door, expecting to be met with a whole number of terrible things.</p><p>“What in the…?” he said, trailing off as he looked around the room. Emily had chosen these quarters herself, and they were one of the smaller, more modest guest rooms in the Temple. They had a large, comfortable bed in the middle, covered in soft bedsheets in a pale, hazy mauve. There was a desk and chair in the corner, as well as two grey couches forming a small sitting area near the windows. A fresher and changing room lay behind a door near the head of the bed.</p><p>“We were practising on translating some more of her language to Basic,” Anakin said, squeezing in beside Obi-Wan in the doorway. “And well, she was getting frustrated because she couldn’t describe what she was wanting to say. I thought, maybe she could draw it and it’d be something I would recognise. So, I got some artists paper from the requisitions master, and a carbon stick, and well…she hasn’t stopped drawing since.”</p><p>There, on the floor at the foot of the bed, sat Emily, hunched over and focused on something on the ground in front of her. Spilling out and covering the warm bronze floor all around, were sheets and sheets of white paper, covered in black scrawls. Obi-Wan stepped into the room, careful to not disturb the scattered artwork. Staring back at him from the white pages, were images of people and places, some little more than rough scratches suggesting a basic outline of features; others were shaded and detailed, faces obviously well-known and carefully rendered, a similar jut of a chin here or the suggestions of curled hair there, all showing slight similarities between them. Obi-Wan skirted past the rounded faces of children, the lined and careworn features of an older woman - her face strikingly similar to Emily’s. A man with laughing eyes and a thin face. A woman, beautiful and freckled, her wide smile grinning back up at them. Mixed in were landscapes of trees and mountains and little rivers. Animals of some sort too, soft looking and unfamiliar.</p><p>“Emily,” he said, as he finally came to stand in front of her. Obi-Wan bent down to pick up enough papers to allow him a space to sit, cross-legged in front of her. Emily ignored him, her hand running back and forth along what must have once been a large stack of blank paper, now thinned to a small pile. Her movements were fast and utterly precise, the muscle memory of a lifetime of practice. Her focus was like a laser, so much so that he couldn’t sense anything in the air around her. Her eyes never flickered from the page, not even as he set some of the drawings around them aside.</p><p>Obi-Wan looked back to Anakin, where he was still stood in the doorway. His padawan gave a baffled shrug, “I’ve tried talking to her Master, but she’s not said a word since she started.”</p><p>“Emily,” Obi-Wan said again, reaching a hand out to take hers. Emily flicked her hand out of his reach, not pausing as she continued drawing. The image of a young girl, little more than a riot of curly hair, was steadily forming across the page. Struck by inspiration, Obi-Wan reached into his belt and drew out the stone pendant. He eased his hand forward, carefully placing it down on the page. Emily scowled at his closed fist, as though she could move it with her mind. When he drew his hand back, he heard the sharp inhale as the carbon stick slid from her fingers.</p><p>Black smeared hands shook as they picked the milky stone up from the page. Emily hunched over, a fine tremble running across her shoulders as she heaved in air, and pulled it up to her face, the fine silver chain glinting as it swayed. Everything was perfectly silent as she slowly moved the stone back and forth in her hand. Obi-Wan could see the colours roll across its cracked surface. Emily gently pressed it to her lips. When she finally raised her eyes to meet Obi-Wan, they were blood shot and streaked with tears. He tensed, the Force warning him something was about to happen, and he prayed that whatever it was, it wouldn’t leave a matching crescent-shaped scar on his other hand.</p><p>Instead, Emily rose up on her knees and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in. He could feel her stuttered breaths and the wet of her tears as she pressed her face into the crook of his neck. She was mumbling something, the words choking in her throat, but Obi-Wan didn’t need to hear them to know what she was saying. He could feel her, in the air all around him, pressing in warm and bittersweet. There was sadness, yes, and the deep hurt of grief - but also the soothing flutter of relief and gratitude. Obi-Wan carefully placed his arms around her shoulders, gently returning the hug, as he looked over to the doorway. Anakin was still there, watching, a wide smile on his face now. Obi-Wan returned it with a sigh. The first small step in regaining her trust - Pei had said. Now, Obi-Wan was starting to fill with the hope that she may be right.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This took me a few tries to write. It was hard to get right, I wanted to address the strange mix of feelings all building to a head in the last chapter. I hope I hit the mark.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Showering was odd, since the bandages had come off.</p><p>Not that it wasn’t a strange experience before, when they had still been on and clinging to her body like a second skin, not budging an inch under the water, no matter how long she stayed under the hot spray. But now that they were off, it didn’t feel like she was washing her own body anymore. Her hands trailed over the raised crepe texture of her right arm; livid pink and white splashes. The burnt skin stretched and puckered, fanned out like a ropey web from where it curved around her wrist and hand, up until it encased her shoulder, creeping red vines out over her collar and chest, and down towards her breast. Then there were the other marks; red divots that dotted her body and pale lines cross-hatched through them, all laid out in a uniform, grid-like structure. Her hair was a soft fuzz now growing back in silvery grey, as if twenty years had been sucked out of her body by a vampire. The large welts and raised marks on the right side of her face, scattered out amongst the freckles that use to live there, curled round and cupped her skull like a spray of meteors across the sky.</p><p>If it weren’t for the pale hazel eyes looking back out at her from the mirror, Emily could almost be convinced that her body had been swapped. That they’d downloaded her consciousness out of her soft and comfortable and imperfect old body, and uploaded it into this new pile of wasted limbs and scars. It was horrifying - she should be horrified by it. But all Emily could think, when she ran the washing cream over her body, watched as it caught and gathered in all the new dips and crevices in her skin - was that this was real. Like her grandmother’s pendant around her neck, the cracked opal resting neatly in the shallow welt of skin it’d welded itself into; she was something that had been altered by this new place. It wasn’t imagined - not when she could trace those changes with her fingertips. It was devastating and comforting, in a way she couldn’t put into words. She’d never felt more present in her body - or more of a stranger to it.</p><p>“Would you want a towel?” a staticky voice asked from behind her, interrupting her thoughts.</p><p>“Jesus Fucking Christ - get out of the bathroom!” Emily shouted, whipping around to see the robot hovering just outside the showers glass enclosure, a folded towel held in it’s top two arms. Blue eyes whirled in its big, stupid metal face. “What the fuck did I tell you? Stop following me around!”</p><p>“Master Kenobi was worried about your length of time in the shower,” it replied, dropping the towel before backing away towards the door.</p><p>“Get. Out.” Emily spat, looking around for something she could smack it with. Possibly sensing its impending doom, the robot pivoted, quickly sputtering out into the changing room. Emily grabbed the towel from the ground, wrapping it around herself as she followed the thing out.</p><p>“Did you send that robot into my bathroom?” she demanded, bursting into the main bedroom. Ben looked up from one of Emily’s drawings, then his eyes went wide as he did a full one-eighty, and directed his gaze to the ceiling, like he was observing the Sistine Chapel and not just flat grey panelling. Emily had a quick glance down to confirmed that, while short, the towel covered all the essentials. For someone who had lived in a cell with her for weeks while she wore nothing but glorified pants and a bra, Emily was learning that Ben was a surprisingly prudish man.</p><p>“No,” he said, clearing his throat. “I asked it if you were well.”</p><p>“I would be better if I didn’t always have a robot behind me,” she replied, glaring at the thing as it bobbed near the doorway, giving her it’s best innocent look. “Watching me. While I washed.”</p><p>“I am sure Anakin will be able to correct it,” Ben said.</p><p>Emily threw a final warning glare towards the robot and walked back into the dressing room. Considering that she had only been given a handful of soft cream t-shirts, both long-sleeved and short, as well as a couple of pairs of leggings, dark caramel coloured and textured like brushed velvet; a whole room full of wardrobes and drawers seemed a little excessive to Emily. She wriggled her damp skin into the top and bottoms, toeing on a pair of comfy flat slip-ons that moulded to her feet and felt like suede. When she came out, Ben still had his back to her, neck craned towards the ceiling.</p><p>“You can look now,” she said, tossing her towel at the robot, who caught it smack in the face. It beeped and whirled as it tried to pry the wet material off its head. Ben cautiously turned back to her, as Emily grabbed another towel from the bathroom and started to dry her face and head.</p><p>“I think I prefer the other robots,” she said, plopping down onto the bed. Emily had been given a large jar of gel, which she had been instructed to rub into her burn marks. Picking it up off the nightstand, she scooped up a handful of the translucent purple gel before rubbing it up her arm and under her clothing. She had no idea what it would do, but it smelled very faintly of lavender and plastic wrap, and it felt cool and tingly on her skin. “Ani should have gotten me one of the real looking ones, not one of the metal ones.”</p><p>“Real looking ones?” Ben asked, dropping his eyes to her drawings again when Emily pushed a hand up under her shirt to rub the gel on her chest.</p><p>“Yeah, like Pea or Nema,” she replied. Ani had practically bounded into her room one day, the robot trailing behind him. He’d happily declared that it was called MEL, and was now ‘hers’ and that he would make it even better, and wasn’t it amazing? Emily didn’t have the heart to tell him that the thing fucking terrified her, especially as it followed her everywhere now, bringing her bowls of paste or cleaning up after her. It also translated when people talked ‘Basic’. It was useful, no doubt, but Emily would have been happier with one of the more animal or Star-Trekie looking robots, like her cosplayer buddies, that she only saw every now and then for check-ups. “They’re not half as annoying or invasive as this thing.”</p><p>Ben looked back up, a frown crinkling his brow, as Emily smoothed some of the gel along her neck, up to her face and across her skull. He walked towards her, coming to stand a few paces from where she was sat, arms crossed as he looked down at her. Emily stared back at him; eyebrows raised.</p><p>“Pea is the same as you,” Ben said, “and she is the same as me.”</p><p>Emily looked up at his frowning face, and wondered if he maybe had an eyesight issue. Pea looked exactly nothing like them. “No, she isn’t,” Emily replied, trying not to sound like she was pointing out the obvious.</p><p>Ben’s eyes narrowed, and he ran a hand through his beard as he said, “she does not look the same, but she is the same, do you understand? Pea is not a robot.”</p><p>“I know she’s not like that thing-” Emily agreed, pointing a thumb towards the bathroom where the robot had disappeared with the wet towels, “-she’s got a kind of skin instead. It’s much better.”</p><p>“I like her,” she added, when Ben’s frown seemed to drop another inch. After a few seconds of silent staring, he rubbed a hand over his forehead, running it back through his auburn hair with a sigh. He muttered something under his breath in Basic.</p><p>“Master Kenobi said that this explains much,” MEL translated, bobbing back into the room. It floated about, gathering together papers and trying to make the bed while Emily was still sat on it, Ben looking at her like she was a Sudoku he couldn’t work out, and Emily staring right back at him, waiting for him to explain all the frowning.</p><p>“We will be going to another room this morning,” he finally said, before walking towards the door. He stopped as it opened in front of him, and turned back to address her. “I need to show you something.”</p><p>“My granny always warned me about strange men trying to lure me into rooms alone,” Emily replied, sliding off the bed and onto her feet. “Especially when they say they want to show you <em>something</em>.”</p><p>Ben walked out into the hallway, not waiting for her to follow. Emily picked up her pace, jogging a little until she fell into step beside him. “I’m just warning you,” she teased, “cause my granny also told me that if they point it where it’s not wanted, then you just rip that sucker clean off.”</p><p>“You,” Ben said, shooting her a look out of the corner of his eye, “are not making any sense.”</p><p>“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that buddy,” Emily replied. Ben huffed a little, but kept walking. Eventually he led them to a rounded section of the wall. He pressed a yellow button, the curved panelling sliding back, revealing a circular, well-lit interior.</p><p>“See? This is exactly what my granny warned me about!” she said, pointing to the enclosed room. Ben nudged her in first, with a hand between her shoulder blades, and then followed, the doors whooshing back to seal them in. He hit another button, and Emily felt the floor jolt underneath her.</p><p>“Where are we going?” Emily said, watching green lights shimmer down strips in the walls.</p><p>“You will see when we get there.”</p><p>“I’ve not even had my bowl of morning paste yet. And you know what they say - breakfast paste is the most important meal of the day.”</p><p>“Oh, I am sure you will survive,” Ben replied, a small smile tugging at his mouth.</p><p>“Will I see Ani today?” Emily asked. It wasn’t always guaranteed that she’d see both of them. Most days, they’d come and go, while she drew pictures to be scanned by MEL and rendered into three-dimensional holograms, or spent her time trying to help translate more of her English into their Basic. Other days, she’d spend the entire time with one of them, the other one off doing whatever it was they did in this place. From what Emily could tell, they mainly just walked from one end of the massive hallways to the other and back.</p><p>“After lunch I think you may see him,” Ben said. Then the elevator stopped, the doors swishing open. “We are here.”</p><p><em>Here</em> was just another bunch of corridors, from what Emily could see when she stepped out. The walls were a pale sage, the floors smooth copper with strips of yellow and green flowing through it. Everything was softly lit, the air a little warmer than usual. Emily could swear that a comforting hum, like a vibration, was coming up through the floor.</p><p>“I’ve not been here before,” she said, looking around as she followed Ben down the corridor. He stopped in front of a recessed door, before turning to her, his face moulded back to a serious expression as he folded his long-sleeved arms over his chest.</p><p>“This is a very…important place,” he said, struggling for a moment to find the right words. “You must be quiet here, and you must do as I ask you.”</p><p>“Why?” Emily asked, a trill of apprehension running down her spine.</p><p>“You will see,” he repeated. “Will you do as I ask?” Emily nodded. She wasn’t sure she wanted to see what was behind the door now, but she had chosen to put her trust in Ben and Ani. Here’s hoping that it wouldn’t backfire - again.</p><p>Ben waved his hand, and the doors slid back, revealing a warm, dimly lit room beyond. Emily followed Ben into the hushed interior, the same sage green colour scheme following them in from the hall. The floors underfoot were carpeted, and lining the perimeter of the room, was a row of small beige pods, each one raised off the ground and no more than a meter long. In the centre, a circular pool of water bubbled quietly, long fronds like seaweed swirling up to cover its surface. The air was close and still, and had a slightly aquatic smell, overlaid with something sweet and familiar. Robots hovered around the room’s edges; these ones different from MEL, with soft looking coverings over their metal hands. They didn’t react to Ben and Emily’s presence, they just went from pod to pod, their lights a dim golden glow, making low humming noises from deep within their casing.</p><p>Ben moved towards one of the little pods, Emily trailing in his wake. He stopped, moving aside to let her stand next to him. Inside the pod, and covered over by a woven beige blanket, was a sleeping child. They couldn’t have been more than eighteen months, from what Emily could tell, and they were spread out, fast asleep on their belly, dark curled hair spilling on to their little round tanned cheeks and caught in the long sweep of their eyelashes.</p><p>“It’s a baby,” Emily found herself rather dumbly stating, looking up at Ben. He had reached out a long finger, stroking it ever so softly over the back of the chubby little hand, clutched tight around its blanket. He slowly pulled his gaze back to hers, his eyes warm and almost green in the muted light, a peaceful smile on his face.</p><p>“This is one of the rooms of our children,” he said, pulling his hand back and motioning to the rest of the pods. Emily stepped away, quietly walking past each one, pausing to glimpse inside. Some of the pods had normal babies - or ones that looked human enough, though sometimes their skin would be blue or green, or horns stuck out where hair would normally be. Others looked totally different, with tiny tails jutting from their stripped heads, or stubby snouts and tusks. One was completely covered in a thick coat of brown hair; its face almost puppy like as it slept on its back.</p><p>Emily turned around, wanting to ask Ben just what the ever-loving fuck this all was, but he was kneeling by the pool at the room’s centre, looking down into the swirling water. Emily came up on his left and he motioned for her to kneel down beside him. The carpet was soft, cushioning her bony legs as she settled on her shins, leaning over to peer into the rippling surface. There, past the bubbles and swaying fronds, were little bodies, wrapped up in the seaweed and bobbing in the current. Emily’s hand shot out automatically, ready to pull them out, but Ben clamped a hand over her wrist, pulling her back.</p><p>“They are sleeping,” he whispered, holding her hand in both of his.</p><p>Emily looked back down, unable to calm the thudding in her chest. She could make out a small face, so human like, but with little tentacles stretching out from the top of its head, each tangled and wrapped around the swaying leaves. She watched as its eyelids twitched, and then slits at the top of the head shuddered, opening and closing like gills on a fish. Emily sat back, staring at where her hand disappeared into Ben’s grasp. Her head felt like it was filled with static.</p><p>“Do you understand?” he asked, voice a low murmur as he squeezed down on her hand. Behind them, something let out a gurgling squeal.</p><p>They both turned at the same time, looking to see a pair of large, dark eyes flanked by a wide set of green ears, staring at them from over the edge of its pod. Ben chuckled, then drew himself up, helping Emily to her feet beside him. They walked over to the pod, those big eyes watching their every move, huffs and impatient snuffles coming out of its tiny little button nose.</p><p>“Hello,” Ben said in Basic, his eyes crinkling as he smiled down at it. It bounced slightly, three clawed fingers dug into the edge of the pod, ears wiggling as it turned its attention from Ben to Emily. The eyes somehow, impossibly, got even bigger, the long ears flattening out. It was exactly like an even tinier version of the build-a-bear who’d whacked her on the head, weeks ago now. Except this thing was so fucking cute, you’d actually want to pay money to buy it from a shop, unlike that wrinkled gremlin. A clawed hand stretched out, face twitching as it squealed. Emily wasn’t sure what it was looking at, until she felt a sharp tug around her neck, her pendant dropping down against her chest.</p><p>“No,” Ben said softly, his big hand gently pressing down on the smaller one. A burbling cry rang out in protest. “He wants your necklace.”</p><p>“Okay,” Emily said, her mouth feeling strangely numb. She leaned forwards, the hand reaching out again, clamping down hard on the glittering stone. Another squeal, this one obviously in delight, as it shook and twisted the gemstone in its fist, and then unceremoniously jammed it into its mouth. Ben reached forward again, but Emily already had her arms out, scooping up the surprisingly solid little bundle. It was amazing, just how normal it felt to cradle it in her arms. The long ears brushed against her neck, wiggling as it gummed away.</p><p>“You know,” Emily heard herself say, voice low and hoarse sounding in her own ears. “That pendant has been chewed on by every baby born in my family.”</p><p>Dark eyes stared up at her, as Emily ran a finger along the pink tinge of its rounded cheek, a line of drool soaking into her shirt. Emily could see the web of capillaries, tinting the ears a blushed peach, where they ran through the translucent skin. She stroked her hand along the pale green edge, silky smooth and warm under her fingers, until she reached the pointed tip. The little thing cooed, its eyes falling shut, and Emily couldn’t resist trailing her hand along it again. This close, she could feel the rise and fall of its chest against her; could smell the faint earthy tang, like an autumn forest after rain, that rose from the fuzz of downy hair on its crinkled head.</p><p>“You see?” Ben said, and Emily reluctantly pulled her gaze up to meet his. He looked so happy; his face practically glowed. He was standing very close to her, and Emily could see that his hand was up, his fingers stroking over one of the tiny clawed feet.</p><p>“Yeah, I see,” Emily said, and couldn’t resist pressing her lips down to brush against the domed head. It blew a muffled raspberry in response. “I’m really not in Kansas anymore.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry this took so long. It's like, 3am right now, and I've been battling this thing for days. I just couldn't convince Emily that they weren't robots. I've written out hundreds of scenarios, and none of them did it. Emily just dug her stupid bloody heels in and wouldn't budge. Finally, I brought in the big guns. And yes, if you're all very good, there may be more Grogu in the future.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Okay, now do it with this one,” Emily said, plucking a small green pava fruit from Obi-Wan’s plate. She held it out on her open palm towards Anakin.</p><p>“It’ll just be the same as before,” Anakin said, laughing. Still, he reached out his hand, and Obi-Wan felt a shimmer in the Force as the fruit was drawn into the air. If there was one thing his padawan enjoyed most, it was showing off his Force abilities to anyone who would be impressed by them. And Emily - well she had run through the full gamut of reactions so far; from disbelief to scared to impressed, and was currently at the incredulous questioning stage.</p><p>“It just doesn’t make sense,” Emily said, waving her hand underneath the fruit. She poked it with a finger. “How is it even…”</p><p>Just as Emily reached out to grab it, Anakin pulled it towards him. The fruit shot out from under her hand, flying straight into his waiting mouth. Anakin laughed as he chewed, incredibly pleased with himself. Emily grinned back at him.</p><p>“Now the spoon!” she said, pulling it out from her untouched bowl of paste. He could already feel his padawan reaching out with the Force towards it.</p><p>“Anakin, that’s enough,” Obi-Wan said. He’d already lost half of his evening meal to this game. Besides, it wasn’t right to be using the Force so casually, especially in the dining hall, surrounded by so many other Jedi.</p><p>“She’s the one asking me, Master!”</p><p>“Yeah, I’m the one asking him-” Emily said, her smile turning impish “-Master Kenobi.”</p><p>Obi-Wan could remember dreaming as a youngling about being a fully-fledged Jedi Knight. How he’d do all he could to embody the wisdom and patience and dignity he had seen from all the other distinguished Masters in the Temple around him. He imagined himself in their position; and how he would be addressed by those around him as Master Kenobi, with all the respect that comes from such a title. He had not, even for a moment, thought that it would be used to mercilessly tease him. Since Emily had learnt what that title meant - and that he was held in high regard by his peers - she seemed to take every opportunity now to use it, usually when she was mocking him for being ‘ridiculous’. He would be inclined to complain about it more, but the way she said it always sent a pleasant curl of heat through his stomach.</p><p>Emily feigned looking up at the ceiling, her hand slowly pushing the spoon towards Anakin, the metal scraping loudly against the table as she acted like she couldn’t hear it. “Do it,” she mouthed. Anakin was full on laughing now.</p><p>“You can’t even pretend to be subtle, can you?” Obi-Wan sighed, fighting a smile. While the dining hall wasn’t very busy at this hour, a few of the other Jedi in the room were sending curious glances their way.</p><p>“I have no idea what you mean,” she said, eyes going wide with possibly the least innocent looking expression he’d ever seen. Obi-Wan motioned his hand, using the Force to slide the spoon back until it was beside her bowl.</p><p>“Is it too much to ask, that I be allowed to eat one meal in relative peace?”</p><p>“Fine,” Emily said, rolling her eyes. She picked up the spoon and scooped some of the paste into her mouth, pointedly making a show of chewing. Obi-Wan was considering going back up for a second portion of pavas, to replace the ones lost to Anakin’s stomach, when he felt a presence at his back.</p><p>“Kenobi!” a familiar voice burst out behind him. Obi-Wan groaned, just as a strong arm clapped down across his back, and a muscular body wedged itself onto the bench beside him, shoving him to the side. “Long time no see, huh?”</p><p>“Vos,” Obi-Wan sighed, shifting up to make room, his chance for a quiet meal suddenly and irretrievably tossed out the window. He turned to see the familiar dusky skin and yellow tattoos of Quinlan Vos, as he settled himself down, snatching one of Obi-Wan’s few remaining pava fruits and popping it into his mouth.</p><p>“Hey, Chosen One,” he said to Anakin, mouth full, reaching across to pat him on the shoulder. “You bring balance to the Force yet?”</p><p>“Uh,” Anakin said, caught off guard. “I’m working on it?”</p><p>“Good to hear,” he replied, slapping a hand down on the table. “Let me know how that goes. And you…”</p><p>Quinlan’s gaze settled on Emily, who was staring back across the table at him, eyes wide, spoon half way to her mouth. “You’re not what I was expecting, I’ll give you that. Hey Kenobi, you not going to introduce us? That’s kinda rude.”</p><p>“Vos, this is Emily,” Obi-Wan said reluctantly. “Emily, this is Master Quinlan Vos.”</p><p>“Bumped into Pei this morning, just as I got back,” Quinlan said, eyes intent on Emily. “She told me about all the crazy stuff that’s been happening here. Kinda sad I missed it - sounded fun.”</p><p>“Oh yes, terrible airship crashes. Life threatening injuries. Horrifying medical experiments. It’s been wall to wall fun for Emily,” Obi-Wan deadpanned.</p><p>“She seems to have come out alright from it.”</p><p>“I thought you were tracking illegal weapons shipments near the Outer Reaches,” Obi-Wan said, trying to change the subject.</p><p>“I was,” he replied. “Then I found them - and now I’m back here.”</p><p>“You won’t be staying for long, I suppose?” Obi-Wan asked, trying to keep any hint of hope from his voice.</p><p>“I dunno,” Quinlan replied, with a loose shrug of his shoulders. He was leaning on the table, his slouched posture had him practically halfway across its surface in Emily’s direction. He didn’t take his eyes from her.  “Depends on whether there’s anything interesting happening here.”</p><p>“Oh well, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed then,” Obi-Wan said. “The Jedi Temple is the same old peaceful, relaxing sanctuary that it always is. I’m sure you’ll be bored within an hour.”</p><p>“Do you speak Basic?” Quinlan asked Emily, ignoring Obi-Wan. “Can you even understand what I’m saying?”</p><p>Emily was looking back at him, absentmindedly stirring the spoon through her paste. She hesitated, and Obi-Wan was about to reply for her, but she beat him to the punch.</p><p>“Does anyone?” she asked, slowly. Obi-Wan coughed to cover a laugh. While Emily had come on leaps and bounds in understanding Basic, she still lacked confidence in speaking it. That didn’t stop her from using the few words in her limited repertoire to devastating effect. Quinlan burst out laughing, his dark eyes sparkling through the wide band of yellow across his face.</p><p>“Pei said you were a fiery one,” he said, pushing back a dark lock from his face. “Which, coming from her…I knew I’d like you.” His eyes dropped. “That’s an interesting stone you got there, mind if I take a look?”</p><p>Emily shook her head, and Quinlan leaned forwards, his bare arm stretching out in the space between them. Thick fingers gently lifted the pendant from Emily’s chest. Then his muscles locked, eyes glazing over, and after a few seconds he blinked and shook his head. Quinlan dropped the pendant and leaned back in his seat, rubbing a hand over his forehead.</p><p>“Man, you really have been though a lot, huh?” he said, his voice going soft. “You’ve got your grandmothers eyes, by the way.”</p><p>Of course, Obi-Wan knew that Quinlan was a gifted psychometric, it was one of the skills that made him such an excellent tracker. But he’d never felt as envious of that gift as he did now. What had Quinlan seen in his vision? Had he glimpsed pieces of Emily’s life before the crash? Seen brief snippets of the world she had come from? Obi-Wan had only a taste of those things from the drawings Emily had produced, but he would have loved to have experienced the reality of them, if only for a few moments.</p><p>A silence stretched out as Emily and Quinlan regarded each other. Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “We were just finishing up our evening meal.”</p><p>“Oh yeah?” Quinlan said, breaking eye contact. His gaze dropped to the bowl, and Obi-Wan felt a tug as Quinlan reached out with the Force and pulled both it and the spoon into his hands. He bent over, taking a sniff, and pulled back with a raised eyebrow. “What’s this meant to be?”</p><p>“It’s a protein paste,” Obi-Wan said, lifting the bowl out of Quinlan’s hands, but not before Vos had shoved a spoonful of it into his mouth. He chewed it for a second, his face unimpressed.</p><p>“Tastes of nothing,” Quinlan said, chucking the spoon down onto the table as Obi-Wan sat the bowl back in front of Emily. The last few months had seen her finally gaining weight, the sucken angles of her face and sharpened joints on her body starting to fill out and soften. There was a healthy flush to her skin now, and a brightness in her eyes. Each day that passed, Emily was steadily looking healthier, and Obi-Wan thought that perhaps he was now seeing something of the woman she had been before the crash - and she was striking.</p><p>“Yes well,” Obi-Wan said, taking the spare spoon from his own plate and putting it in the bowl, “considering all the other food had her vomiting everywhere, this is better than the alternative.”</p><p>“Yeah, but that was before, right?” Quinlan said, picking up the last pawa fruit from Obi-Wan’s plate and popping it into his mouth. “Pei said that she’s adapting to things now. Maybe it’s time for her to start trying out different foods. She can’t just be eating that gunk for the rest of her life.”</p><p>“That’s all very well in theory,” Obi-Wan said, “but as I’ll probably be the one getting vomited on like before, I think it’s best we leave the experimentation for another day.”</p><p>“Where’s the fun in that?” Quinlan said, pulling himself up to his feet. He winked at Emily. “I’ll be right back. Hey kid, wanna come use your Chosen One powers to help me pick out some food?”</p><p>“Sure,” Anakin said, getting up to follow him as Quinlan strutted across the dining hall towards the recessed service window. Obi-Wan stared down at his empty plate, scrubbing his hands through his hair. That man was impossible, and Obi-Wan could already feel a tension headache starting up behind his eyes.</p><p>“Is he a friend of yours?” Emily asked in English. Obi-Wan lifted his head to see that she was sitting there, watching him, with a small smile on her face.</p><p>“It would take too long to explain,” Obi-Wan admitted. And it was true. Quinlan was a few years older than Obi-Wan, so while they weren’t creshmates, they were still within the age range that training would at times overlap while they were younglings and beyond. Quinlan had been wild and unpredictable even then; barely ever listening to or following instructions, always just going by instinct but, amazingly, those instincts always seemed to guide him well. It had always disconcerted Obi-Wan, how much Quinlan seemed to get away with, even now as a Jedi Knight. Obi-Wan doubted he could get away with even half as much; not that he’d even want to in the first place.</p><p>“I like him,” she said.</p><p>“He breaks rules, disregards orders and has, on several occasions, very nearly gotten me killed-” Obi-Wan listed off “-of course, you would like him.” Emily just grinned.</p><p>A heaving tray, overflowing with bowls, plates and glasses landed on the table with a rattling thunk. Quinlan started haphazardly scattering the dishes out around the table, while Anakin quietly slid another, smaller tray in a tiny patch of empty space.</p><p>“We got some roasted nuna. Some Sorsun mudgrubs. Scrambled blurrg eggs. Fral. Even got a few more pawa fruit, seeing as Kenobi’s ate all his,” Quinlan said, tossing the tray to the floor as he settled down. Emily craned her neck to peer over the dishes. She recoiled back when the Quarren Sea-Porridge trembled and shifted.</p><p>“I am not sure,” she said in Basic, her skin going a little pale.</p><p>“Hey, this stuff is delicious, trust me,” Quinlan said, grabbing up and tearing a Cushnip in half and putting it down in front of her. Emily picked it up, taking a sniff before breaking off a tiny piece and putting it in her mouth. Obi-Wan felt a shiver run through the air around her, a feeling of something that wasn’t quite unpleasant, but wasn’t exactly enjoyable either.</p><p>“Man, you’re loud,” Quinlan said, a huge grin on his face as he watched her eat.</p><p>“I didn’t say anything,” Emily replied, confused, swallowing down the small amount of food she had eaten. Obi-Wan felt himself brace for the worst. He already had an eye on an empty bowl he could call on, should she need it.</p><p>“You don’t need to,” Quinlan said. “Can damn near taste that myself, you’re feeling it so loud. Here, try one of these jeffra berries.”</p><p>“Oh, I’m not sure-” Obi-Wan started to say, but then the bright orange berry popped in her mouth, and a split second later, Emily’s face twisted in a grimace, the Force practically recoiling with the bitter sourness that trembled through it.</p><p>“Oh my God!” Emily choked, coughing as she tried to work the flavour out of her mouth. Anakin burst out into laughter beside her, and Quinlan’s smile was nearly splitting his face.</p><p>“This is going to be so much fun!”</p><p>That’s how it went for the next hour or so, as their table slowly started to attract other Jedi from around the room. There was something fascinating about the experience of eating food, through the reactions and feelings of someone else. Even foods that Obi-Wan knew the flavour and texture of, were something completely new, felt second-hand through Emily’s perspective. The ripples of utter horror when something would wiggle or move, would cause an eruption of laughter through the room. Some Jedi brought over their own meals for her to try, watching with fascination as the Force shuddered and wavered in the air. And Emily, seemingly knowing that she was now an attraction, was surprisingly good humoured in trying each thing, even when her apprehension was written all over her face.</p><p>She called it time when she’d went to eat a Chronger Nut, and the eight spidery black legs unfurled out of it, just as it approached her mouth. She lobbed it across the room in fright, and started waving her hands in the air. “Okay, I’m done. I’m done, no more please!”</p><p>“You did great!” Quinlan said, popping a Chronger Nut in his own mouth, Emily’s expression of horror as he crunched down on it causing another wave of laughter around them.</p><p>Their audience eventually moved away, going back to their meals, though a few Jedi stopped to speak further. Emily had been a curiosity for many in the Temple, though most of the Jedi were unsure of approaching her. Obi-Wan was happy to see that uncertainty fading, and had to admit, Quinlan’s idea had helped tremendously. The last remaining Jedi took their leave, with promises to come over and speak again next time.</p><p>“You know Kenobi,” Quinlan said, clamping a hand on his shoulder with an easy smile. “I think I might hang around for a while longer.”</p><p>Obi-Wan sighed, shaking his head. “I was afraid you might say that.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I haven't read The Dark Disciple - so my characterisation of Quinlan Vos is from that one Clone Wars episode he was in. Wish we'd gotten more of him, tbh. And not cause they made him tres sexy (is it weird that I'm attracted to cartoon characters?) Also, pretty much all food in Star Wars looks disgusting. Everything they eat seems to be alive. If I were Emily - I'd declare myself fully vegan, immediately.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What’s up with all the balls and sticks?”</p><p>“Huh?” Ani eloquently replied.</p><p>They were walking down a vast - almost endless - flight of stairs. Stretched out beyond them was one of the bazillion hallways that seemed to make up the Temple. This one, however, was the biggest Emily had seen so far. The pillars stretched up so high, that the shafts of light that fell from above were entirely diffused by the time they reached the marble floors, giving the air a hushed, hazy feel, like the quiet of a sleepy late afternoon.</p><p>“The statues,” Emily said, pointing to the massive carved figures that lined the sides of the main walkway. Each one was easily as tall as the Statue of Liberty, golden bronze and towering up until their heads were level with the raised platforms that stretched above. “Why do they all have sticks or balls in their hands? They playing fetch with some dogs we can’t see?”</p><p>“I don’t even know what that last sentence means,” Ani said, giving her a puzzled look. “But the statues are of the Ancient Masters. They’re either holding lightsabres or prophecy orbs, which shows if they were famous for being a warrior or a scholar.”</p><p>“What if they were both a warrior and a scholar? What do they hold then?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Ani said, with a shrug. “Maybe a lightsabre and an orb? I haven’t really noticed.”</p><p>“I’d have them swinging their lightsabres at the orbs like a baseball player,” Emily said, laughing at the image it conjured.</p><p>“What’s baseball?”</p><p>She was about to launch into an explanation - one which would likely be rather inaccurate given she’d never actually seen a baseball game - but was cut off by a low voice on her other side.</p><p>“Kenobi never teach you that it’s rude to talk in a language not everyone speaks, Skywalker?”</p><p>Emily turned to look at Quinlan, who had been quiet since he’d intercepted them on the way to the Library, where she had another long morning lined up of trying to catalogue the entire history of Earth, to the frighteningly exacting standards of the iron-haired woman that seemed to be in charge of the place. Instead, he’d offered to whisk them away to something much more interesting, and given the thought of spending hours desperately trying to wrack her brain for what limited knowledge she had on dinosaurs that hadn’t been taken wholesale from the Jurassic Park movies, Emily was easy to convince.</p><p>“Sorry Master Vos,” Ani said in Basic. “Emily was just asking about the statues in the hall.”</p><p>“Not wanting to know where I’m taking you?” he said, eyebrow raised.</p><p>“Would you tell me if I asked?” Emily replied.</p><p>“No point now,” he said, shrugging his shoulders and smiling. “We’re nearly there anyway.” He nodded his head towards a huge set of bronze doors on the left wall of the hallway, flanked either side by two more statues, their sticks held high and crossing above the doors arch.</p><p>“The Council said that Emily’s only allowed in the public areas,” Ani said, looking at Quinlan with a frown.</p><p>“And here I’d heard that you weren’t one for following Council orders.”</p><p>“Well, the last time I didn’t follow orders, I had to help clean out the Temples evacuation ducts. I couldn’t get the smell out of my hair for a week,” he replied with a groan, nose wrinkling at the memory.</p><p>Quinlan chuckled, dragging a hand over the dark stubble on his cheek. “Well, you don’t need to worry about it; I’ll take the heat for this one. Besides, all the public places are dull. What’s the point of staying in the Temple if you don’t get to see the cool stuff?”</p><p>It took them a good five minutes at a solid pace, to finally reach the doors. Their panelled centres had reliefs of flowers, trees and mountains carved into them. Unlike the other large hallway doors she’d passed through, these didn’t automatically open on their approach. Quinlan paused at the threshold, a hand stretched out and tracing over the designs.</p><p>“You ready?” he asked. Emily craned her neck, looking up into the stoic faces of the statues as they stretched out protectively overhead. She nodded once.</p><p>Quinlan dropped his hand, just as the centre of the doorway cracked. The first thing that hit Emily was the sound; the thunderous rush of water. The doors slowly swung inwards, opening out onto a curved stone bridge. Great sheets of water fell to either side; their bubbling, glittering walls cascaded down through several tiered gardens below, each one lush with trees and coloured plants, dotted with statues and terraces and winding streams.</p><p>Quinlan stepped forward, crossing the slick walkway. He held out his arm, letting his hand run through the water, watching it split and ripple, catching on the beams of light from above and sending out a rainbow tinted spray. He stopped half way across, turning back to her and holding out a large tanned hand in her direction. Emily stepped out after him, cautiously at first, but the stonework had grip under her feet, even when wet. She looked up at the vault of the roof above, dizzyingly high and obscured by white mists. More walkways intersected the air, coming to rest on stone ledges, held up by sheer rock face, some natural and some carved and fluted in beautiful, twisting shapes. Small creatures flitted and dove around them, iridescent streaks of colour flashing through the air.</p><p>When she reached Quinlan, his large hand, rough and calloused, engulfed her own as he pulled her forward, towards a large gap in the pale rock wall ahead, its surface marbled in veins of blue and purple. Figures were carved into the sides, their long robes curled over with reaching vines and the bright splash of flowers, their faces turned to address each other, as though holding conversation for eternity.</p><p>“What is this?” Emily asked, finally finding her voice. Quinlan said something, but the water swallowed his words, washing them away.</p><p>“It’s the Room of a Thousand Fountains,” Ani said in English, his voice at her back. She turned to see him walking close behind her, bending the water with his hand, his skin glistening where the spray had caught him, glittering silver in his blonde hair and soaking dark patches into his tunic and sleeves. He smiled at her. “It’s my favourite place in the Temple. When I was growing up, I couldn’t have imagined this much water existing in the whole galaxy. It’s beautiful.”</p><p>“It is,” she said, turning back just in time to be led through a yawning gap in the rockface. Crystals, in pale pastel hues, shone through the translucent stone, it’s surface smoothed and shaped in curling forms by years of erosion. Vegetation, like algae and moss, wound their way through crevices in veins of bright green and radiant blue. Stairs were carved into the stone, pathways that twisted and looped until they ran out of sight. Quinlan seemed to be leading them up, past crashing waterfalls and across wide, treelined gorges.</p><p>Emily was breathing hard by the time they crested, coming out into a huge circular gap, like a natural amphitheatre built into the stone, the centre plummeting down hundreds of meters to a wide glittering aquamarine pool below. Water spilled out through wellsprings in the side, falling down to splatter and foam around the edges. The air was sweet and clear; trees clung to the side of the sheer rock, their twisted branches hung with glowing flowers the colour of dawn; golden pink blushing into pale blue. Natural pillars jutted up the sides, rising up in sheer steps around the perimeter.</p><p>“We want to get down there,” Quinlan said, pointing to the gleaming water below. Emily peered from behind him, her stomach lurching at how far down it was.</p><p>“So we need to go back?” she asked, starting to step away from the edge. Quinlan pulled her back.</p><p>“Nah, I think we’ll take the shortcut. Kid, you wanna go first?”</p><p>“Sure,” Ani said, stepping out from behind them both. He turned back to give Emily a wide smile and then, without hesitation, leapt from the ledge. Knee-jerk reaction, honed from years of catching stumbling toddlers, had Emily reaching out to grab him before she even knew what she was doing.</p><p>“Nope, not yet,” Quinlan said, tugging her back by the hand to stop her from lobbing herself over the edge after him. Not that she had any chance of catching him. Ani soared through the air, easily spanning the impossibly far distance to the first jutting rock ledge. He landed perfectly, like he’d just jumped a meter and not ten times that distance.</p><p>“Now it’s your turn,” Quinlan said, before he dropped her hand. Emily turned, still a little dazed from what she’d just seen, in time to catch his brown eyes and bright, almost feral smile before she felt him grab her by the waist. Then suddenly she was soaring, her body weightless as she flew through the air, wind whipping past her ears. Anakin grew in her vision, closer and closer, until she slammed into him, his arms coming around her as he caught her. The minute her feet hit solid ground, she dropped onto her knees and then flattened onto her back, gasping air in through the hammering of her heart. Ani knelt down over her, worry creasing his face.</p><p>“Are you alright?” he asked, while Emily covered her eyes with her arm to stop his face from swimming around in front of her. There was a quiet thud to her left.</p><p>“Never heard anyone scream that loud,” Quinlan said, his voice coming from above her.</p><p>“I screamed?” Emily croaked out. She couldn’t remember screaming; could only recall everything blurring past her as her heart tried to explode out her chest.</p><p>“Probably louder with the acoustics around here,” he replied. Emily dropped her arm, the dark dreadlocks and rich golden-brown skin coalescing into the image of Quinlan looking down at her from above.</p><p>“Did you just toss me?” she gasped, her heart slowly returning to its normal rhythm.</p><p>“Yeah,” he said, laughing. “Wanna do it again?”</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>They’d made it to the fourth pillar - each time with Quinlan throwing and Ani catching, as Emily soared through the air, screaming and laughing until her feet hit the ground - before they were interrupted.</p><p>“What in the blazes are you three doing?!” a familiar voice barked, echoing down to them from the platform above. Emily was just about to be lobbed for the fifth time, Quinlan’s hands about her waist, when she looked up to see a very bearded - and very unhappy - face frowning down at them.</p><p>“Kenobi!” Quinlan shouted up. “Glad you could join us. Could use another person to help catch.”</p><p>“I’ve been looking everywhere for you two,” he said, ignoring Quinlan to scowl down at Ani. “Jocasta Nu contacted me to say that neither of you appeared in the Library this morning as arranged. She’d thought something had happened to you both.”</p><p>“Ah, that would be my idea,” Quinlan said, before Ani could form an answer. “I thought I’d show Emily some of the better parts of the Temple.”</p><p>“Hold on a minute, I’m coming down so we can discuss this properly,” Ben replied, and then he somersaulted off the platform, whipping across the huge chasm like an acrobat shot out of a cannon, spinning through the air until he landed, whisper soft, directly in front of Emily. She reached out, touching a hand to the creased robes across his chest, just to check and make sure it was actually him and not some magical illusion. He gave her a searching look, as if checking for injuries, before he turned to Quinlan.</p><p>“Emily is scheduled to be in the Library in the mornings,” Ben said, his voice taking on its most disapproving tone. “She is also only allowed in public areas. So, imagine my surprise when, after I’m alerted to her going missing by Master Nu, I get another message from the Chief Agriculturalist who says that Emily sounds like she’s being murdered in the Room of a Thousand Fountains - a place that is neither the Library nor accessible to the public?”</p><p>“Listen man,” Quinlan said, leaning back against the stone wall with a shrug. “Old Nu will have her in there, taking down stuff till she withers and dies of boredom or old age. When does she get to do the fun stuff?”</p><p>“Is that what this is supposed to be?”</p><p>“It is pretty fun,” Emily admitted. Ben gave her a look that screamed, ‘I don’t want to hear a word out of you’.</p><p>“Well, she’s here now,” Quinlan said. “And the only way is down. You might as well help out.”</p><p>“Alright,” Ben agreed, “but it will have to be done in a far quieter way. If any more screaming comes out of here, we’ll have the Temple guards on us, and I won’t be the one left to explain the situation to Master Drallig.”</p><p>“Fine,” Quinlan said, waving a hand. “Whatever.”</p><p>Ben looked at Emily, and then took a brief glance around. “If I may?” he asked her, and Emily automatically nodded, opening her mouth to ask what he wanted to do. Her words died in her throat as he scooped her up into his arms, lifting her like she weighed less than a bag of flour. He pulled her close, one arm cradling her back, the other tucked under her knees, before giving her a smile. “You may want to hold on.”</p><p>Then he hopped off the platform, everything blurring as they plummeted down until they landed on a rock ledge meters below, Emily’s body barely jostled with the impact. Ben quickly took them down like that, leaping from platform to platform, everything rushing past, as she held on with a death-grip to his tunic. The air whistled in her ears as he made the last leap, falling past an endless curtain of silver water, before landing with a splash at the edge of the pool. A cavern stretched out all around them, pillars and statues holding up an arching stone roof beyond. Grass and flowering plants spread out across the ground, curling into the sand around the brilliant blue edge of the pool, drinking in the white spray of mist where the falling water kissed the ground. Ben gently set Emily onto her unsteady feet, water soaking into her little slippers.</p><p>“Okay?” he asked in English, looking down at her.</p><p>“Yeah,” she said, surprised at the tremble in her voice. “Just wondering why there’s so many stairs in this place, when you can all do that.”</p><p>“Well, it’s really not so good on the knees,” Ben replied. Emily burst out in a shaky laugh, looking up to see him smirking back at her, blue eyes soft in the dim light from above them. His hands were still cupping her elbows, and she hadn’t let up the white-knuckled grip on his chest. Emily honestly wasn’t sure what had her still feeling so dizzy, the death-defying drop or the fact that his face was so close to hers, she could feel his breath against her lips. His scent, warm and rich, felt like it was surrounding her. Emily had no idea if it was something they only used when laundering his clothes, or if it was something he washed with, but the smell was achingly, mouth-wateringly good. She wanted to bury her face in it, wrap it around her, until she was completely cocooned.</p><p>“You two just planning to stand there all day?” a voice said, pulling Emily out of her daze. Quinlan reached down to scoop something up out of the water. Ben dropped his hands, stepping back as his tunic slipped from her grip. Quinlan pulled up beside her, gently lifting up her hand to nestle a damp pink stone in her palm.</p><p>“This is the Galaxy Pool,” he said, nodding his head to indicate the room around them. It took a second for Emily to catch up with his words. “Scattered in the water here, is a stone from every planet, moon and piece of rock any Jedi has ever stepped on.”</p><p>She looked down at the pink stone in her hand. It was smooth, the shade a bright fuchsia, and streaked through it were fine wavering lines of blue and green, refracting the light like cut gemstones.</p><p>“It’s a pretty big thing now,” Quinlan continued, “to find a place in this galaxy no Jedi has ever been to before. I don’t think anyone has placed a new stone down in here for two-hundred years.”</p><p>“I’m going to,” Ani said, standing at the other side of the pool. He was looking back up, past the falling water shimmering down onto the pool’s surface. In the light, he almost glowed, his hair and skin cast in gold. He looked like one of the statues lining the Temple halls. “I’m going to find a planet no-one has ever stepped on.”</p><p>“You’ll need to head out into the Unknown Regions, if you want to do that kid,” Quinlan remarked, dropping her hand.</p><p>“Then I’ll do that,” he said, his voice filled with the absolute certainty of youth.</p><p>Emily placed the pink stone down at her feet, picking up another one that glinted up through the water. This one was a blue so dark, it was almost black. It felt smooth and cold, like glass that had been kept in the fridge. No matter how long she held it in her hand, it didn’t warm.</p><p>“How many stones are here?” she asked, looking up.</p><p>“How many stars are there in the sky?” Ben said, coming up to pluck the stone out of her hand. He ran his fingers over the surface, before muttering, “Hoth” and putting the stone back in the water.</p><p>“Come on, we need to go back before Master Nu sends out a search party for us,” Ben continued, his voice taking on the sharp edge of an order, as he looked around the room one last time. “This morning detour will have set back her schedule - something which she is never pleased with.”</p><p>“Can’t we stay a little while longer?” Emily asked. The pool and the garden and statues around it were beautiful, and she wanted to walk around the waters edge, picking up the stones that caught her eye.</p><p>“Not today,” Ben said, placing a hand on her back as he started edging her towards one of the carved tunnels leading out of the cavern, “but perhaps, if there are no more unscheduled daytrips, I may be able to get you permission to visit here again.”</p><p>“And if not, I’ll just bring you back,” Quinlan said, jumping up onto the base of a large plinth.</p><p>“Come along,” Ben said, then waved a hand to catch Ani’s eye. “You too Anakin. I expect you to apologise to Master Nu for today’s interruption.”</p><p>“But I…”</p><p>“I think I’m going to stay here a while longer,” Quinlan said, stretching his legs out in front of him as he leaned back on the rock. “Give old Nu my best.”</p><p>“Catch you later, Emily,” she heard Quinlan say, his voice floating after them as Ben led her away from the glimmering pools and rushing waters, out to the now lifeless feeling hallways beyond their walls. If this had been hidden here, all this time, Emily wondered what else might be found in the Temple, and whether Quinlan would find another chance to sneak her out to explore them.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The Room of a Thousand Fountains always sounded like it would be amazing. It's a shame that they've not tried to show it in either the movies or the TV shows. Maybe they'll surprise us in the future, you never know.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Chapter 21</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello lovelies, sorry for the delay in this. My poor wee hands broke out in eczema, as they sometimes like to do at random, so I decided to take a break from my computer outside of work, so I wasn't just smearing my steroid cream all over the keyboard and I could let them heal up a bit. They're doing better for it now, after the rest. I'm hoping to get back to an every-other day schedule for posting. Thanks for your patience.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Subcutaneous fat has increased by two-point-seven five percent. Collagen fibre realignment and circulation seems to be noticeably improving. Have you noticed an increase in skin flexibility since using the gel we gave you, Emily?”</p><p>“Emily?”</p><p>Obi-Wan looked up from the report he was reading on Master Luminara’s most recent investigative mission to Er’Kit. Doctor Nema was hovering over Emily’s prone form on the medibed, a scanner in one hand and the gold skin of her other hand a sharp contrast where she gently shook Emily’s freckled shoulder. He tried not to laugh at the bleary mumble of “M’awake” as Emily flinched back into consciousness.</p><p>“Do forgive Emily’s lack of attention Doctor Nema,” Obi-Wan said. “She was rather occupied with exploring the Temple’s lower areas with Master Vos last night, and forgot that she needed to sleep.”</p><p>Emily rumbled out a half-groan half-yawn, scrubbing her hands over her eyes. “I would have gotten more sleep if you hadn’t woken me up so early for this,” she mumbled in English.</p><p>“I thought that the Council had restricted her access to only the public areas of the Temple?” Doctor Nema asked.</p><p>“You would be correct - but since when has Council restrictions ever applied to Quinlan Vos?”</p><p>“Ah, some things never change,” Doctor Nema said, smiling fondly.</p><p>“There’s a whole mountain under this place,” Emily said, still in English, bleary eyes turned to him. “How do you hide a <em>mountain</em> in a building? There were so many tunnels and carvings and weird things lower down. There were these huge like…blob things with long tentacles that were everywhere.”</p><p>Doctor Nema raised a questioning eyebrow at Obi-Wan. While she’d learned a few of the basic words in English, no-one other than himself or Anakin were fluent enough in Emily’s native language to understand most of what she said.</p><p>“She’s describing the natural tunnels running through the base of the sacred mountain,” Obi-Wan explained. “And what I assume is a description of the granite slugs that live there.”</p><p>“They were horrible,” Emily continued, her voice soft with sleep. Waking up for Emily was always a multi-stage process; her tendency to ramble being one of the earlier stages Obi-Wan had observed. “They had like, <em>two</em> mouth tentacle thingies. Who even needs two mouths? What’s the point in that?”</p><p>“Definitely granite slugs,” Obi-Wan said in Basic. “She’s just saying how adorable they look.”</p><p>“Really?” Doctor Nema replied, giving Emily a baffled look.</p><p>“I didn’t say that,” Emily said, her eyes sharpening.</p><p>“In fact, she’s saying how much she would like one as a pet,” Obi-Wan continued to Doctor Nema. “I’m sure we can speak to one of the Keepers in the Temples Zoological Gardens to acquire one for her, don’t you think?”</p><p>“Master Kenobi - we have detected several translation errors,” MEL said, from where it floated near the medical station. “Please hold while we perform a neural scan for possible damage.”</p><p>“No need,” Obi-Wan said, chuckling and waving off the droid. “Master Pelri has been keeping track of all the neural damage I’ve taken over the years - I’m sure she’ll give you a detailed report if you ask her.”</p><p>“You know,” Emily said, slowly hauling herself up into a seated position on the medibed, “you’re not even half as cute or funny as you think you are.”</p><p>“Well, that <em>is</em> news to me,” he replied back. Emily rolled her eyes dramatically, but she was smiling at him. Her hair was long enough now that it was starting to fall into her eyes, the silver-streaked curls a fuzzy riot sticking out at all angles. She looked warm; sat there in clothes a little too tight for her now, her face soft with the hazy edges of sleep. She looked…let’s just say it suited her, in Obi-Wan’s entirely unbiased opinion.</p><p>“Is this finished?” Emily asked Doctor Nema in Basic.</p><p>“Not quite,” Doctor Nema said. “Actually, Master Pelri and I wished to speak to you about something. Wait a moment while I go and fetch her. She should have been here but may have gotten caught up in her work.”</p><p>“It’s not something to be concerned about, is it?” Obi-Wan asked, the smile falling from his face as he set aside his datapad.</p><p>“Oh no,” Doctor Nema said, waving him off as she walked towards the door. “It’s nothing like that. I’ll be back with Master Pelri in a minute,” she said, slipping out of the room.</p><p>Obi-Wan stood up, crossing to stand in front of Emily where she was sat, her legs dangling over the edge of the medibed. He had no reason to distrust Doctor Nema’s statement about everything being fine, but the compulsion to check, just in case, didn’t seem worth fighting. Emily craned her neck back, looking up at him. She looked healthy; her eyes were bright and clear, meeting his with a questioning expression. Even her scars were starting to fade into pale, raised marks - the angry red soothed away by the gel she had been applying. Obi-Wan reached out with the Force, brushing the tendrils of it over the familiar off-pitch hum of her presence. She felt…good. No sirens blared in his mind; no shadows darkened the vibrant thrumming pulse of her lifeforce.</p><p>“Your frowning,” Emily said.</p><p>“Well, according to you, I am always frowning.”</p><p>“That’s because it’s true.” Emily tilted her head just a fraction. “You’re feeling me up, aren’t you?”</p><p>“I beg your pardon?” Obi-Wan said, his senses drawing back so fast it nearly gave him whiplash.</p><p>“Or whatever you call it. When you use your mind magic on me,” she said with a wicked grin, and Obi-Wan was a hundred percent certain she knew exactly what her phrasing implied. “I can feel it, you know. It’s like someone’s walking over my grave.”</p><p>“Your grave?” he repeated, not liking whatever Emily was implying.</p><p>“It’s not meant literally. It’s just a saying for when you get that strange shivery feeling out of nowhere. That’s what it feels like when you’re mind is groping me or whatever.”</p><p>“Please don’t call it that,” he said through an exasperated sigh.</p><p>“Sorry I’m late,” came Pei’s voice as she and Doctor Nema walked back into the room. Obi-Wan had never been so grateful for an interruption. “I was caught up in analysing some fascinating samples brought back from D’Qar. Now let me take a look at these scan results.”</p><p>Obi-Wan was elbowed out of the way as Pei picked up Doctor Nema’s datapad. “Ah yes, these are satisfactory. You could do with building up a bit more muscle mass, but all in all this isn’t terrible,” Pei said. “And if you’re running around, trying to keep up with Quinlan, you’ll be getting plenty of exercise.”</p><p>The last thing Obi-Wan needed was Emily being encouraged to join in Vos’s mad schemes to delve into the parts of the Temple that most sane Jedi avoided. “Doctor Nema mentioned that you wished to speak with Emily?” he said, quickly changing the topic.</p><p>“What? Oh yes, that’s right,” Pei said, putting down the datapad. “You’ll both be pleased to know that Emily has been officially recognised as a level five sentient being under Article Two of the Galactic Republics Classification and Categorisation of Sentient and Non-Sentient Species.”</p><p>“Wait,” Obi-Wan said. “Wasn’t that obvious? Emily is human, surely she fell under that classification by default.”</p><p>“Emily is ninety-nine point two-five-five-three percent human, compared to a Galactic Standard human. This is enough to classify her as a new subset of the human species,” Pei replied. “But more importantly, it means that she is considered intelligent and sentient enough to be granted the autonomy to make her own medical decisions. There have been a number of issues Doctor Nema and I have found which we’ve not been able to offer treatment for, due to the various agreements and treaties created by the Republic when it comes to interference with those classified as sub-sentient.”</p><p>“What sort of issues?” Obi-Wan asked.</p><p>“Well, that’s why I’m here to speak to Emily,” Pei said. “MEL, come over here. You may be required to translate some of this.” The droid drifted over, coming to a stop at Pei’s side.</p><p>“Emily,” Pei said, and Obi-Wan watched Emily sit up a little straighter on being addressed. She had been quiet through all of this, and Obi-Wan could only guess that she may have been struggling to make her way through Pei’s more technical explanations. “I would like to speak to you about some medical matters we have found, which we would like to get your agreement on treating.”</p><p>“Okay,” Emily said, after MEL finished its translation.</p><p>“Excellent,” Pei said, giving her a reassuring smile. “Firstly, Doctor Nema and I believe that we can grow skin cloned from your DNA, to eventually replace the skin scarred by your accident. I have created a new strain of bacta, which with testing, I believe your body will tolerate without an allergic reaction. It may take several months until we would be ready to perform the graft, given the stage we are at with the necessary components, but we would like your permission to begin the initial phases.”</p><p>“You think it will take away these?” Emily asked, running a hand down the raised skin on her neck.</p><p>“That is our goal,” Doctor Nema said. “If we can perfect the bacta, you would be left with full sensitivity and little to no scarring.”</p><p>Obi-Wan was surprised at feeling a small ripple of uncertainty in the air around Emily at this. She began biting down on her lip, her eyes growing distant. “Is it okay if I think about it?” she asked, her voice hesitant.</p><p>“Of course, there’s no need to give us an answer now. We just want to let you know that this is an option should you want it,” Pei said, entirely unphased. Obi-Wan tried to smooth over his features. He couldn’t understand why Emily wouldn’t want to have them removed as soon as she could. While the gel had helped ease the tightness, there must still be some discomfort from them.</p><p>“Secondly,” Pei continued, moving swiftly on. “We have discovered early markers indicating the presence of a severe neurodegenerative disease, most likely to begin manifesting in the next thirty years or so.”</p><p>“There is no translation for neurodegenerative,” MEL said, and Pei tutted before continuing.</p><p>“Your brain will be badly damaged,” she said, her voice slowing. “You will lose your memory, your use of language, your fine movement skills, until your brain is so damaged you will die from it.”</p><p>Emily frowned. “Alzheimer’s?” she asked. Pei shrugged.</p><p>“I am not sure what you would call it on your world. It is something we can easily treat with a simple injection and a targeted neural laser pulse,” Pei said, then added “-brain scan,” before the droid could object to the terminology.</p><p>Emily brought her hand up to her necklace, her fingers playing with the white stone. “My grandmother had it,” she said softly. “It felt like everything she was, just broke apart and drifted away from us, piece by piece, every day. It took so many years, it’s hard to remember what she was like before.”</p><p>“That doesn’t need to happen to you,” Obi-Wan said, reaching out to touch Emily’s shoulder. She looked up at him, her eyes glittering. She shook her head and looked back to Pei.</p><p>“I don’t want to have that happen to me. If you can fix it, I don’t think I could thank you enough.”</p><p>“Well, it’s a good thing that I don’t require any thanks then,” Pei said, a small smile tugging at her faceflaps. “Now, to the third and last issue. We have identified an implant in your arm. It appears to be releasing a rather crudely designed synthetic hormone similar to progest-”</p><p>“There is no transl-”</p><p>“-it is stopping your monthly blood,” Pei said, quickly interrupting the droid. “It is to prevent you from having children, yes?”</p><p>“Oh, this?” Emily said, reaching a finger up to rub against the top of her arm. “Yes, it’s called a contraceptive. What’s wrong with it? It still seems to be working. I’ve not had my period while I’ve been here.”</p><p>Obi-Wan almost felt like the conversation was drifting away from him, as he puzzled over what he had just heard. Why would Emily need this kind of device? He knew of such things, of course, but they were only used when a couple wished to wait to have children, or if they perhaps didn’t want to have any at all. But still, every time it had been…</p><p>“You’re <em>married</em>?” Obi-Wan blurted out, interrupting whatever was being said. He was wracking his brain for any memory of Emily talking about a husband or partner, but he couldn’t recall anything like that. Hadn’t he asked her once, in fact? She’d just smiled at him and shook her head.</p><p>“No,” Emily said, confusion written in her eyes when they met his. “You don’t…people, you know, do things without being married here, right?”</p><p>“Yes, it’s perfectly normal,” Pei said, with a dismissive snort. “Don’t pay much attention to Obi-Wan. It is, at times, a wonder to me that he has actually stepped foot outside of the Temple.”</p><p>Obi-Wan didn’t even register Pei’s insult, he was too busy staring at Emily, his brain still trying to process everything. He wasn’t even sure why it had shocked him like this. He knew that some species, and even some humans, would…mate outside of any sort of marriage or vows. It was just that, with everything he’d learned about Emily’s culture, it didn’t seem so distant from the Galactic Republics norms. Emily herself wasn’t so different from him, in her values and beliefs. In fact, he’d been surprised at how well they aligned; on how many fundamental truths their two vastly different upbringings shared. It was just so strange to realise that this is where they would diverge. Emily sat quietly, frowning back at him, as Pei continued to speak.</p><p>“We have far better means to prevent pregnancy without need for something as crude as this. We can easily extract it, and replace it instead with a small device that can be removed or attached by you, at will. It will be far better for your body than what you have.”</p><p>“I would like that,” Emily said, drawing her attention back to Pei. “Thank you.”</p><p>“Good. Doctor Nema will arrange with you to have these treatments. In the meantime, let me know what your decision is on the skin graft. Take all the time you need.” Pei patted Emily’s hand, then turned to leave.</p><p>“You’ve not spoken to her about the other thing,” Doctor Nema said, stopping Pei in her tracks.</p><p>“I really don’t want to know what this ‘other thing’ is, do I?” Obi-Wan said. He’d had quite enough to chew over today; he really didn’t need any extra portions.</p><p>“You know what I think about all that nonsense,” Pei said, waving her hand in dismissal. “Best thing for Emily is to ignore them.”</p><p>“It is a direct request from both the Council and the Chancellor - we can’t just ignore it,” Doctor Nema responded.</p><p>“Ignore what?” Obi-Wan asked, trying to keep the frustration from his voice.</p><p>“As Master Pelri explained earlier, Emily has been classified as a new subset of the human species. To be officially recognised as this, it takes approval from the main scientific institutes of the Galactic Republic. As part of our agreement with the Chancellor - and the Senate - on Emily falling under our care exclusively, we were required to release all information as it relates to Emily, so that it can be analysed and studied by the outside scientific community.”</p><p>At this Doctor Nema paused, looking to Pei as if she was expecting her to jump in. Pei continued her silence and Doctor Nema let out a heavy sigh.</p><p>“They believe, as we do, that Emily is not a subset of the human species. We believe her to, in fact, be part of the theorised progenitors of humanity, as has been widely speculated on over the centuries. We believe her world could possibly be the birthplace of the human species. This is not only based on her DNA, but also on the information she herself has added in to our Archives. The details she has recorded on her species evolution is similar to what many scientists have theorised, but never found any evidence of, for how humans came into existence.”</p><p>“That is remarkable,” Obi-Wan said, looking again at Emily. She hadn’t made a sound during this speech, and Obi-Wan wasn’t sure just how much of the conversation she actually understood. The mystery of the origins of the human race was one of the biggest unanswered questions in the galaxy. It was like they had just appeared one day, rapidly spreading out into the stars, mingling and conquering and creating new sub-species everywhere they went. The thought that the woman calmly sitting in front of him, could not only answer that question, but was possibly a living ancestor shared with every human and near-human in the Galaxy, was almost too much to believe.</p><p>“What Doctor Nema hasn’t mentioned,” Pei said, interrupting Obi-Wan’s thoughts, “and what I am against, is that the Chancellor and the Senate wish to make this information known to the wider public. They want to hold a large gathering of the top scientists, politians, leaders and other interested parties, so Emily can be paraded in front of them like some kind of attraction. Do you know what they have already dubbed her? ‘The Mother of Humanity’.”</p><p>“I’m nobodies’ mother,” Emily said, her voice raised and a curl of disgust on her face.</p><p>“I say that we ignore the lot of them,” Pei said. “The politicians just want to use Emily to showboat, the scientists are excited at having something new to poke and prod at. It’s best to let the whole thing fizzle out, once their attention spans have significantly depleted.”</p><p>“I don’t think this will disappear as much you as hope it will Master Pelri,” Doctor Nema said. “But for the moment, it’s best that you’re both made aware. We have some time yet before the Council and the Senate will expect an answer.”</p><p>“Though trust me, if we’re smart,” Pei said, walking towards the door, “it’s best to simply tell them no.”</p><p>Obi-Wan ran a hand through his beard and sighed. This was a complication they could really do without.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Chapter 22</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You know Anakin, I think you should spend the morning brushing up on the history of the Perlemian trade route,” Ben said, sitting his plate down as he eased into the seat across from Emily. Anakin made a noise that sounded like an animal dying.</p><p>“But Master, I thought that maybe we could practise some of the Shien forms that we saw Master Tapal use in his last duel with Master Ertay.”</p><p>“There is more to being a Jedi than lightsabre techniques,” Ben replied, as he started to meticulously cut and reorder his breakfast. “Besides, your last essay on planets critical to the Republics strategic defences entirely missed the Republican Naval Base and shipyards on Anaxes. You’re just lucky you were presenting your work to Master Koon, and not Master Krell, or I doubt I’d ever hear the end of it.”</p><p>Ani dipped his head, his eyes shadowed with the tell-tale beginnings of a teenage sulk. He began shovelling blue porridge into his mouth. Emily did her best to smother her smile. She’d learned fairly early on that Ani didn’t take criticism all that well.</p><p>“If it makes you feel any better, Master Nu has asked me to do something utterly impossible,” Emily said.</p><p>“Impossible is a rather strong statement,” Ben replied. “I doubt that Master Nu would ask you to do something you were incapable of. What did she ask?”</p><p>“Well, she was saying that there’s been a lot of requests from outside the Temple, to find out more about my culture and stuff. So, she asked me if I could write down some stories and songs from Earth, that she could forward on to them. And when I asked her how many she wanted, do you know what she said?” Emily paused, taking a bite of fried domfrie root, enjoying the little burst of flowery cardamom flavour. Ani shook his head and Ben raised a questioning eyebrow.</p><p>“She said she wanted everything I could remember - all of them!” Emily shook her head. “Do you know how long that would take? I could probably spend a whole year just writing down all the songs I know from when I was a teenager - never mind the stories. I might as well move my bed into the Library, and live there for the rest of my life.”</p><p>“I don’t think Master Nu expects you to recount everything you know,” Ben said.</p><p>“Really?” Emily replied, her eyebrows going up.</p><p>“Well,” he said, clearing his throat as he swallowed down a bite of his own breakfast. “I don’t think she expects you to recount everything you know <em>immediately.</em> I’m sure she’ll appreciate whatever you can provide her.”</p><p>“Is there really that many stories and songs where you’re from?” Ani asked around a mouthful of food.</p><p>“There’s so many, you’d probably need to build another section of your Library just to hold them all,” Emily said, reaching across to wipe a smudge of blue from the corner of his mouth with a napkin. Ani grinned a row of turquoise stained teeth at her as Ben huffed his exasperation.</p><p>“Could you maybe sing me one someday?”</p><p>“Ani, I like you far too much to ever subject you to my singing,” Emily said with a laugh.</p><p>“You can’t be that bad, surely,” Ben said</p><p>“Trust me - I’m not being modest here; I really am that bad. My brother said that he couldn’t tell the difference between my singing and the foxes that use to fight in our back-garden at night.”</p><p>“Well, nobody’s perfect,” Ben said with a little smile. Emily tried not to roll her eyes. She couldn’t think of someone less qualified to make a statement like that. He was sat across from her now, not a hair out of place, looking so fucking beautiful it actually made her stomach ache. From learning her language, to practicing his martial arts, to repairing one of the Library’s screens when it had broken; Emily hadn’t witnessed one thing he couldn’t do flawlessly. She would bet the clothes on her back that he was probably an amazing singer too.</p><p>They finished breakfast fairly quickly, with Ben and Ani leaving her with the promise of meeting up for the evening meal. Emily was allowed free rein now to spend her days as she wished, with Ben and Ani going about their training and only lending a hand when she needed it. It was a little strange at first, getting use to being back in charge of her own day. She’d lived independently since she was nineteen years old, but the sudden change of organising her own time again had thrown her for a loop. She initially kept to the routine Ben had set for her, but slowly she’d started to change some things. Like having days where she didn’t go to the Library to pour all her knowledge of Earth from her brain, just to refill it again with a new galaxies’ worth of information. Emily had decided that today, would be one of those days.</p><p>Instead of heading off to the Archives, Emily looped back to her room and picked up her little art box. Ani had been slowly filling it with things that, she suspected, he’d went out and bought himself. It was filled with pigments and inks, strange curved brushes and pen-like blades that engraved or raised the surface. There were different kinds of paper and canvas, some smooth and cool like porcelain or plastic. Others were rough, almost grainy, like wood. Mostly though, she stuck to plain paper and charcoal, with coloured chalks that swirled like watercolour when wet. As today was a bright, clear day - and Emily wanted to feel the sun and wind on her face - she packed a blanket and water-bottle and made her way to the roof gardens.</p><p>Emily wasn’t exactly sure why they were called roof gardens. The only plant she’d ever found out here was a giant tree, its trunk twisting up into a canopy of gold leaves. Otherwise, it was largely all smooth stone, interspersed with the odd statue or carved mural. Emily made her way to the higher levels near the centre, the middle tower looming up behind her, blocking out everything at her back. She found a sunny spot, laid her blanket out close to the ledge’s lip and settled herself down. The city skyline lay out before her, stretching on and on, until is faded into blue sky at the edge of the horizon. Flying cars darted past in never-ending lines, like ants over cracked, sun-baked clay. Emily had attempted several times to draw Coruscant; it’s blocky grids and jutting towers, all glittering glass and metal. Landscapes had never really been her thing, and it showed in the busy mess of her sketches, but she figured that if ever there was a time to learn, landing in a new galaxy with a million new worlds to draw, seemed like the ideal opportunity.</p><p>So, she sketched. And scowled. Maybe swore once or twice as she tried to undo her errors and not waste the precious materials Ani had given her. People came and went below, most not paying her any mind. Once or twice a Jedi would call up and ask her if she was alright. Was she lost? Should they fetch Master Kenobi for her? Emily would smile and wave them off, trying not to feel like everyone thought of her as Ben’s wayward pet. A few hours had passed, and she was starting to get an ache in her tailbone from sitting for so long, when a troop of little brown robed children wandered across the platform below her - followed by an even smaller, green-eared Master. Emily watched as they arranged themselves in rows, green and blue blades flickering to life in their hands, as Master Yoda began taking them through the stances she sometimes saw Ben and Ani perform.</p><p>“Breathe,” she heard Yoda say. “In the Force, centre yourselves you must.”</p><p>Not one to miss an opportunity, Emily set aside her clumsy sketches of the skyline, and picked up a new pad of paper. She may suck at drawing buildings, but people? Faces? That was where her small reserves of talent lay. She picked one or two to draw at first. A boy; blue skinned and taller than the rest, his green blade blazing as his lean limbs swept through the movements. A girl; shorter but practically buzzing with energy, her skin the colour of terracotta and a crown of blue and white stripped head-tails whipping around her as she moved. Once they were coloured in, she started wider sketches of the group; trying hard to capture their uniform individuality. Going just by the human children, they couldn’t have been much older than ten or so. Each was utterly focused; following Yoda’s croaked instructions without hesitation. After a while, he called them to rest, peppering them with praise. Emily set down her drawings and stretched out her fingers, deciding to take a break herself.</p><p>“Done well this morning, you have,” Master Yoda said after a while, as the children talked and drank water. “A game, I think we shall play, hmmm?”</p><p>The children perked up, talking excitedly amongst themselves. A few called out suggestions, and Master Yoda just leaned against his stick and laughed. “A new game I think we should have. Perhaps one that our friend Emily can remember from her world.”</p><p>Emily looked up at the sound of her name, a sudden rush of panic coming over her as she noticed everyone below now looking up to her with expectant eyes. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, not sure what to say.</p><p>“No games did they play on your world, hmm? How sad,” he said, and she could see his cheeky little smile even at this distance. The children didn’t take their eyes off of her - she could practically feel their anticipation. Emily hadn’t really interacted much with the children since that time in the nursery with Ben. She’d been so busy, and to be honest, she wasn’t even sure she was allowed to speak to them. She was a stranger, after all.</p><p>“We had games, Master Yoda,” Emily eventually found her voice to call back down. “Though I’m afraid they may be a little too simple. You might not find them any fun…”</p><p>“The best, simple games often are. A favourite game you have, hmm?”</p><p>Emily wracked her brain, not expecting to be put on the spot like this. What games would these kids even like? They could levitate things for Christ sake. When Emily was growing up, she was lucky if she went one day without tripping over her own feet and skinning a knee.</p><p>“Tag?” she said, her voice unsure. “Freeze tag maybe. That’s what we played most when I was a child.”</p><p>“And how is this played?”</p><p>“Well, there’s a few people, and they’re called ‘it’. Their job is to run around and try to touch the other players, which is called tagging them. When you’re tagged, you have to stand still, with your arms and legs out like this-” Emily stood up, starfishing her hands and legs out as wide as she could to demonstrate. “You can’t move again until one of the other people who aren’t ‘it’ come up and go through the gap in your legs.”</p><p>Emily looked at the children, realising that some of them had legs far too close to the ground for others to get through. One didn’t even have legs at all, instead their lower half balanced on a flexible tail. “Or they need to jump over your head,” Emily added. She’d seen kids even smaller than this in the Temple rooms, jump twice the height of their little bodies, so that wasn’t asking too much, was it?</p><p>“When is the game won?” Yoda asked. Now that was a question. Emily could just remember playing until they collapsed from exhaustion, or when the lunchtime bell rang. “When those that are ‘it’ tag everyone I suppose. Maybe they lose if they don’t manage to tag someone for…five minutes?”</p><p>“Understand this game, does everyone?” Yoda asked. The children all nodded their heads. “How many of the children shall be ‘it’?”</p><p>Emily had started to make her way down to their platform, her drawings abandoned. When she got to Yoda’s side, she counted over the group. Sixteen children. “Maybe try four to start with.”</p><p>Yoda separated out the ones who were ‘it’, going over the rules again as he did. The children were excitedly whispering among themselves, looking at Emily with wide, curious gazes. She smiled back, hoping that they hadn’t heard about the whole ‘Mother of Humanity’ thing. Or about her biting Ben. That had been a much laughed about topic among some of the older Jedi that he was friendly with.</p><p>“Begin, you may,” Yoda said.</p><p>Emily hadn’t been a hundred percent sure on what watching alien super-children playing Tag would look like, but it sure as hell wasn’t this. One minute they had been standing statue still, and the next they were leaping and twirling and sprinting all around them. They called out to each other, dashing around, skating through legs and summersaulting over heads. Occasionally a shout would go out, or a burst of laughter. Yoda stood at her side, a little smile wrinkling his already wrinkly face, as one child jumped barely a millimetre from his head, yelping a, “sorry Master Yoda” as he shot off past them, another child hot on his heels. Eventually, the ‘its’ managed to split and corner the other kids, picking them off and using the tagged kids as bait. The game ended with a sea of widespread arms and panting bodies, grins flashing as Yoda praised the winning side. Four new children were chosen as ‘it’ and so the games continued, one after the other, until all were given a chance to play both sides.</p><p>It was amazing, watching them strategize. How quickly they adapted to the other sides change in tactics. How they seemed to know exactly what each other were thinking. Towards the end, barely a sound was made, each child communicating with little more than a look. The last game came to a draw. The kids all but collapsed to the ground, laughing among themselves. Yoda looked up at Emily.</p><p>“A good game, this was. Not so simple now to you, I think.” Then he raised his voice, so the others could hear. “Many lessons here to learn - on teamwork and strategy. On knowing one’s opponents. These things, a simple game has taught us.”</p><p>“We mainly just played it because it was fun,” Emily admitted. The children laughed, many of them still panting to catch their breath. Yoda chuckled.</p><p>“A good lesson that is too,” he said. “Come now children. Rest and our midday meal, we will take. Your thanks, to Emily, please give.”</p><p>The children got up, giving her little bows with a chorus of, “thank you Emily,” said in unison. It reminded her of kids thanking their teacher at school. Some things it seemed, were the same no matter what galaxy you were in.</p><p>“More games, perhaps you will teach us, hmmm?” Yoda asked at her side, as the children wandered off back inside for food. “Not all knowledge, in stuffy halls on little screens, must be passed.”</p><p>“I’d like that,” she admitted. Seeing children from another world, enjoying the games she’d played as a child, was something Emily had never imagined.</p><p>“Good,” Yoda said, and then started to walk away, his little stick tapping a beat on the ground. “Your drawings you should catch, before take them, the wind does.”</p><p>Emily frowned, looking up at the pile of papers and blankets she’d left on the ledge above them. Then, just as he’d predicted, a gust of wind brushed through her hair, her papers flicking and then, catching at the edges, started streaming away.</p><p>“You little fucker,” she said in English, dashing her way up the sloped sides. She spent the next ten minutes wrangling together her scattered drawings from the roof.</p><p>It wasn’t until the end of the evening meal, as she was sat between a grumbling Ani who had spent his day buried in datapads and hyperspace lanes, and an entirely unsympathetic Ben, that Emily found out word of her morning lesson had made its way around the Temple.</p><p>“Master Kenobi. Anakin. Emily,” a rich, undulating voice greeted them. Emily looked up to see the large, dark eyes and wide smile of Master Fisto. She tried to fight down the immediate flush of heat threatening to rush to her face at the sight of him. Master Fisto was one of the Jedi that Ben was constantly reminding her not to stare at. Or be too ‘loud’ around, in her thoughts. Emily really did try, but it was something she struggled to do. He was just so…interesting - and beautiful. His green skin gleamed, his eyes swirled with rich colours under their dark, glossy surface. The tendrils from his head had markings down along them that caught the light, in semi-translucent indigo blue, and all Emily wanted to do was run her hands over him, to feel the texture of his skin and watch the colours swirl in his eyes and just pepper the millions of questions she’d built up in her head since she first laid eyes on him. She was also utterly convinced that he knew exactly how enthralled she was in his presence; every time he’d spoken to her in the past, his smile would widen in proportion to how much she blushed.</p><p>He was grinning down at her now, eyes glittering with what was absolutely a knowing look, as Emily mumbled a hello to him. Ben rolled his eyes. “Evening Master Fisto. How has your day been?” Ben asked, mopping up the last of the sauce on his plate.</p><p>“My day has been productive, thank you for asking. Though, perhaps not as productive as Emily’s here,” he said, grin widening as she startled at her name. “I believe you taught some of the younglings a most enjoyable new game today. I overheard some very excited chatter about it from the creche halls. Myself, and a few others, have a great interest in learning it, if you would be willing to teach us?”</p><p>“You didn’t tell us about this,” Ben said, his eyebrows so high they looked like they were trying to blend in with his hairline. Emily shrugged.</p><p>“You’ve both been arguing so much I haven’t managed to get a word in edgewise.”</p><p>“If you are happy to teach us, perhaps Master Kenobi and Anakin could join our group? Would twelve be sufficient to play with?”</p><p>“Ah, yes - that should be more than enough. Anything over six people tends to be best,” she said, trying not to stare at the small flicker from the tendril over his right shoulder. “I’d be happy to teach the rules - though it is just a children’s game.”</p><p>“Games should be played by all ages,” he replied. “And it has been too long since we've had an activity just for fun. I have prepared the larger room on the lower third floor of the training quarters. Would you be available in say, an hours’ time?”</p><p>“Okay,” Emily nodded, and Master Fisto clapped his hands together and laughed. “Excellent. I hope to see you all there.” With a bow, he swept away, trailing swaying green tendrils and a salty-sweet scent after him. Emily wondered if it came from his skin. It reminded her of ice-pops on a sunny beach by the sea.</p><p>“What kind of game is it?” Ani asked, his voice brimming with excitement.</p><p>“Well, I can’t tell you that now, you’ll have an advantage.” Ani slumped a little, but his eyes still shone with barely contained enthusiasm. “Anyway,” she continued, “I guess you’ll both find out soon enough.”</p><p>“I wonder who else Master Fisto’s asked to join in,” Ben said, a spark of interest glittering in his eyes too.</p><p>As it turned out, Master Fisto seemed to have invited the entire Temple to the game. Or well, that’s what it felt like to Emily. In reality, there was likely little over fifty people waiting for them when they arrived into the vast, domed training room on the third level. Emily looked around, wide-eyed and feeling a curl of nerves in her stomach. What if all these Jedi found the game to just be stupid and boring. She watched Ben and Ani move ahead, calling out greetings to the various robed Jedi milling around. Many turned to look at Emily, faces filled with the same anticipation the kids had looked at her with that morning.</p><p>A heavy arm dropped over her shoulder, startling her out of her thoughts. “Hey mom, heard you’ve had a busy day teaching the kids!” Emily groaned. She took back everything she’d said about Ben being a grumpy old man. In this instance, he had every right to be.</p><p>“Quinlan, if you were my child, you’d never be allowed outside your room,” she said, batting a hand at his stomach.</p><p>“Aow, that’s child abuse,” he replied, doubling over like he’d taken a blow. Emily shook her head.</p><p>“I believe we are all here,” Master Fisto called, moving into the centre of the room. “Thank you all for coming at such short notice. As you may have heard from the younglings, a new game has been introduced to the Temple. It has been some time now since we’ve gathered together to do anything but train. I believe it would be most pleasurable to engage in a more informal activity together.”</p><p>“The game is from Emily’s world,” he said, his hand indicating her to the room. Everyone’s eyes turned to hers, and Quinlan gave her shoulder a tiny squeeze as she dipped her head. “It is called ‘Tag’. I believe it is a simple, yet challenging game, and comes with much praise from Master Yoda. There can be no better recommendation. Emily, if you would be kind enough to explain the rules.”</p><p>Emily looked up, clearing her throat to dislodge the wad of nerves expanding in it. She picked out Ben’s auburn hair in the room, finding it easier to focus on his face, as he beamed a smile of encouragement at her. Slowly, trying to keep her voice steady and her pronunciation in Basic understandable, she explained the rules. Master Fisto gave her a little bow of thanks when she finished.</p><p>“Thank you for your explanation. If everyone is ready? Those who wish to observe, please kindly take a seat. Those who wish to play, we shall need to split our numbers. One third shall be ‘It’. Please arrange yourselves appropriately.”</p><p>“Now this, I’m definitely not going to sit out,” Quinlan said from beside her. He slid his arm from her shoulder, turning back to her as he started to walk towards the centre of the room. “Try not to be too impressed with me,” he said with a wink.</p><p>“That should be easy enough,” Emily replied, not able to hold back her laugh. She moved to the side seats, a number of Jedi - half that she couldn’t remember the names of - greeting her with polite hellos. As she sat down on a seat, a familiar bundle of robes plopped down beside her.</p><p>“Well, this should be entertaining enough,” Pei said, adjusting her cloak.</p><p>“You’re not going to join in?” Emily asked, watching Pei’s ears wiggle a little as she shook her head.</p><p>“Oh no, it’s far too late in the evening for this sort of thing. Anyway, this tunic is newly tailored and fits me perfectly. Some buffoon almost always ends up putting a tear in my clothing when I take part in any group activities. It’s very inconvenient having to explain myself to the requisitions master each time.”</p><p>Ben and Ani approached from across the room, chatting away to each other. “Hello Pei,” Ben said, as the two came to a stop right in front of where they were sitting. “Not joining us?”</p><p>“You know my rule,” Pei said, and Ben chuckled.</p><p>“You’ll never let me live down that scorch mark, will you? It was twenty years ago!”</p><p>“I’ll stop holding a grudge, when the requisitions master stops glaring at me every time I go for a new set of robes.”</p><p>“Very well - Emily, would you mind holding our cloaks for us?” Ben asked, as he and Anakin held out the long, hooded garments. Emily folded them up into a ball in her lap.</p><p>“Not just going to drop them at your feet like you usually do, Obi-Wan?” Pei asked. Before he could get in a witty reply, Master Fisto asked everyone to ready themselves.</p><p>“Oh, and you two,” Pei called after them as they walked away, “make sure to take Quinlan down a peg or two if you can.” Ben gave her a thumbs up in response, as Ani laughed. “He’s been insufferable since he got back from his last mission,” Pei added in an aside to her.</p><p>All the spectators settled down on their seats, a low murmur echoing in the room. On the floor, around twenty or so Jedi stood, talking amongst themselves. Quinlan was speaking to a beautiful blue-skinned Twi’lek, who Emily remembered him introducing to her as his old padawan. She was laughing and rolling her eyes at something he’d said. There were a few other familiar faces in there, people she knew to be more senior Jedi. A woman with green skin and long flowing robes talked to a tall, bald man that she remembered from her early days in the isolation room. A squat man with long ears and a scarred eye talked to a looming, grey-skinned Jedi, with a large fin shaped forehead.</p><p>“Let us begin,” Master Fisto said. Emily watched as they…well as everyone just sort of stood about. She’d almost believe that they hadn’t heard Master Fisto start the game, but the silence and tension in the room was so thick, she could almost taste it in the air. Emily was about to ask Pei what on earth was going on, but then it was like someone had suddenly flipped a switch. One moment they were still as statues and the next, it was just a blur of moving bodies. Emily had never seen anything like it before. The children had been quick and fluid and incredibly impressive, but this? This was like Cirque Du Soleil; only fed on methamphetamines and with the speed turned up by a thousand. Emily could barely make out one spiralling streak of brown from the other. They ran up walls and backflipped across the room. The only time she got a good look at anyone was when they were tagged, and even then - a body would fly through their legs or flip over their heads and they’d shoot off back into the fray. Five minutes passed without a still body in sight, someone from the side-lines called a win for those being chased.</p><p>“Did you see that!” Ani practically shouted as he ran across the room towards them, face soaked with sweat. He was panting, but it was the kind of out-of-breath Emily got climbing a set of stairs, not the kind that comes with a solid fifteen minutes of practically flying through the air. Ben came up behind him, a towel held out in one hand as he used another to wipe his face.</p><p>“Did you see that feign I did with Master Tassu?” he said, practically vibrating with pride. “He thought I was going to free Master Huulik, but then I turned that last second, flipped right over his head, so by the time he’d turned round Huulik and I were both gone.” His grin was so bright, and Emily didn’t have the heart to admit that she’d barely spotted either Ani or Ben in the middle of the whole thing.</p><p>“It was amazing,” she replied, keeping it vague enough to encompass the whole game. Because it was true, she’d never seen anything like it in her life.</p><p>“You did well,” Ben said, “but you need to be more aware of those teammates around you. Too often you were solely focused on your opponent, losing sight of the larger situation.” Ben turned to Emily, colour high on his cheeks, blue eyes practically glowing, little tendrils of sweat dampened hair sticking to his forehead. Emily had to clamp down hard on her thoughts. He looked utterly delicious.</p><p>“This is a surprisingly engaging game, I must admit. Did you play it often as a child?” he asked. Emily was trying to think about unattractive things, like Rupert Murdoch naked. Yup, that did it. All thoughts of sex vanished in a puff of venomous smog.</p><p>“All the time,” Emily said, managing to look Ben in the eye again. “Though not quite as…enthusiastically.”</p><p>“We should be the ones attacking this time,” Ani said as they were called back to the floor. “I know exactly how we should play it.”</p><p>“Oh, this should be interesting,” Ben mumbled as they wandered back.</p><p>They played a few more games, and as it went on, either Emily’s eyes adjusted to the speed, or exhaustion was finally starting to slow their movements to something a little less than lightspeed. Like with the children, they played themselves into a draw for the last few games, each side consistently matching the other. Time was called, and an appreciative rumble erupted around the room, as the spectators clapped for those who had played. Emily stood up with Pei and crossed the busy floor, to hand crumpled cloaks back to two very sweaty and out of breath men. Ben gasped out his thanks. Ani sucked down about half a litre of water in one gulp.</p><p>“This was a most enjoyable game,” a voice said to her side. Emily turned to see Master Fisto standing beside her, not even remotely out of breath, his skin bright and almost shimmering. He grinned at her. It would seem that exercise only made him even more vibrant and engaging. Any exertion always left Emily looking a crumpled mess. Some things just weren’t fair.</p><p>“I hope we will have many more opportunities to play it in the future. You have my thanks for teaching us.”</p><p>“I’m just grateful to be allowed to watch,” she said. “If we played the game like this back home, I may have been more interested in sports.”</p><p>Master Fisto laughed, bowing as he left to talk to others. People filtered out, chatting about the different strategies they’d used, the best moments, complimenting each other on their performance. More than a few people praised Ben and Ani, and Emily felt a rush of pleasure in hearing people so openly admire their skills.</p><p>“So,” Ani said, as they wandered back to their rooms. “Know any more games like that one?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter may have gotten away from me a bit. But hey! Over the 50,000 word mark. I can hardly believe it. Thanks for sticking with me so far!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Chapter 23</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Obi-Wan couldn’t find Emily anywhere.</p><p>He and Anakin had checked the Library. The roof gardens. The training dojos. Obi-Wan had even wandered down to the aquatic levels, thinking that perhaps Emily had decided to take up Master Fisto on his offer of exploring the underwater training quarters and living area. She wasn’t anywhere to be found, and no-one they had spoken to had even caught sight of her in passing.</p><p>Normally Obi-Wan wouldn’t think much of it. The Temple was huge and sprawling. There were a thousand different areas to explore, where she could tuck herself away to draw or - as was sometimes the case - nap, but her art kit still lay untouched in her room. She had been absent at the morning meal, and then again for the midday one, and now as the afternoon was wearing on without a sighting, Obi-Wan was starting to worry. It wasn’t like her to just disappear without a word. What if she’d decided to explore the lower depths as she had with Vos? The whole area was a death-trap; parts of it old and crumbling, a never-ending maze easily as large as the Temple built on top of it. If his recklessness had…</p><p>His comlink chirped.</p><p>“Master?” Anakin’s voice said, crackling through the speaker.</p><p>“Anakin, have you found anything?”</p><p>“I’m searching through the security-holo now, Master,” Anakin said. There was a long pause. “Looks like she left her room at oh-five-fourteen hours this morning… she went down to the First Hall, and…and she left the Temple through the Grand Entrance, Master.”</p><p>“She left?” Obi-Wan said, turning on his heels and picking up his pace to a jog, as he headed for the turbolift.</p><p>“Yes Master. Should I meet you at the entrance?”</p><p>“Alright, I’ll see you there.”</p><p>Emily had left the Temple; that couldn’t be right. Perhaps she’d thought about exploring the Processional Way or even the wider Temple District - it was dotted with ancient statues that many tourists came to view. Not that Emily had ever shown more than a passing interest in the statues inside the Temple itself. What other reason could she have for leaving, especially on her own? She had no credits. No comlink. If she’d found her way down into the apartments and lower-level hangers…how would he even begin to track her?</p><p>“Master,” came Anakin’s voice, as he emerged from under one of the pillars of the Four Founders, near the top of the ceremonial staircase. The sun was already starting to dip in the sky, casting warm slanted rays across the stonework.</p><p>“We should split up,” Obi-Wan said, his eyes sweeping out across the vast expanse of the Temple District laid out around them. He’d never really appreciated how massive the space was until now, with the prospect of having to sweep the area before nightfall now upon him. Even the more respectable upper areas of Coruscant could be dangerous at night, especially for someone with no knowledge or experience of them.</p><p>“I don’t think-”</p><p>“-comms into the Temple security as well. We should dispatch droids to help sweep the area,” Obi-Wan said, as he started to walk towards the stairs. He stretched out with the Force, hoping to pick up the distinct feel of Emily’s lifeforce. He could have used Vos and his tracking skills right about now, as much as he hated to admit it, but he’d left for another undercover mission weeks ago now.</p><p>“Master-”</p><p>“We don’t have time to stand around Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, turning back to scowl. Couldn’t his padawan see how urgent the situation had become? She’d been out here for over twelve hours. Goodness knows what could have happened in that time.</p><p>“She’s right there, Master!” Anakin blurted out, pointing across to the farthest statue overlooking the stairs. There, tucked into the corner of the railing, was a little figure. Her body was hunched over, her legs either side of a railing post, feet dangling over the edge. Obi-Wan couldn’t tell which of the feelings that rushed through him at the sight of her was strongest; his annoyance or his profound relief.</p><p>He walked towards the statue, Anakin at his side. Had she been out here the whole day, curled around the railing strut? As they drew near, the parallel’s to how he’d found her once before, slumped at the top of the abandoned tower in the Works, evidence of the experiments still welded to her skin, were just a little too close for comfort.</p><p>“Emily?” he said, his shadow falling over her. She didn’t turn at her name. He looked to Anakin, who shrugged his shoulders. Obi-Wan couldn’t sense anything from her. She had grown better at tucking her feelings down; drawing the wavering pulse of her essence under her skin. While it was something he’d encouraged Emily to learn, it was moments like this that he missed the honest feel of her in the air. At least it gave him something to work from.</p><p>After a long moment of silence, Obi-Wan slowly approached the railing’s edge. Lifting up his cloak, he folded himself down beside her, stretching his legs out to dangle next to hers, the guard-rail brushing against the top of his head. Emily had tucked the railing strut into her shoulder, her cheek pressed against the metal, arms wrapped around and moulding her body to it. “Hi,” she eventually whispered, as they sat quietly watching the traffic crawl across the sky-lanes.</p><p>“Hi,” he replied, lowering his voice to match hers. “We’ve been looking for you for hours.”</p><p>“Oh,” she said, rubbing her cheek against the metal. “Sorry.” They lapsed back into silence. Anakin eventually joined Obi-Wan on his other side. They must have looked odd to the people milling around below. Three people sat in a row, looking out onto the city beyond.</p><p>“You know what MEL told me this morning?” Emily eventually said, breaking through the stillness. Obi-Wan cast a look over to Anakin. What could the droid have said that would cause her to sit out here all day? Maybe its personality programs had glitched? Anakin was always tweaking the stupid thing. “He said that I’d been here for two hundred and eighty-four days. That’s over nine months.”</p><p>Nine months! Had it really been that long since he’d pulled her from the burnt-out wreckage of the airship? It didn’t seem possible. Then again, Obi-Wan struggled to remember what it was like before Emily had crashed into their lives. It felt like she’d always been there somehow. She saved him a response by continuing after a second’s pause.</p><p>“I’ve missed everything,” she said, voice low and thick in her throat. “All the birthdays. All the terrible, endlessly long dance shows. The judo competitions. Laser tag and McDonalds on Saturdays. Pub quiz with the girls every Tuesday. Christmas...”</p><p>“You know,” she said, finally turning to look at him. There were no tears in her eyes, but he could hear the faint echo of them still lingering in her voice. “I’ve never missed a Christmas. Never. It was the one thing we’d always make sure we came back home for. And even though it always ended up with the kids fighting and falling out, and everyone eating till they felt sick, and my brother having a beer too many and arguing politics with anyone who’d listen - it was good, you know? The stupid jokes, and the ugly pyjamas, and watching The Muppets Christmas Carol like we didn’t know all the words off by heart. It was good.”</p><p>He tried to think of something comforting to say, but everything he’d been taught by the Order, all the words he’d normally reach for, had only ever caused her to pull away from him before. Emily loved her family deeply. Telling her to let go of her grief - her attachment to what she had lost - was almost always met with barely restrained contempt. So, he did the only other thing he could think of; he reached out to gently place his hand on the pale freckled skin of her shoulder. Her skin felt like ice under his palm.</p><p>“You’re freezing,” he said, pulling off his cloak and tucking it around her. Emily didn’t move. “We should get you back inside.” He pulled himself up on to his feet, Anakin following him.</p><p>“Come on,” he said, gently easing her arms from around the railing strut. Emily didn’t seem inclined to move, but slowly got to her feet as he lifted her by the elbows.</p><p>“Jedi don’t do anything like that, do they?” she asked, as though she hadn’t really heard him.</p><p>“Like what?” he said, pulling his cloak more tightly around her. If she’d been out here all this time, she probably hadn’t had a thing to eat since yesterday. He’d have MEL bring her something from the kitchens to her room, while they got her warmed up.</p><p>“Presents and games and drunken arguments about taxes.”</p><p>Obi-Wan kept a hand at her elbow, as he led her back inside. “I’m afraid not, no.”</p><p>“Do the people out there do it?” she said, stopping to look back at the city. Obi-Wan followed her gaze.</p><p>“Most species in the galaxy have holidays that they share with friends and family. There’s probably a thousand worlds out there right now, holding all kinds of festivals and celebrations.” Emily’s face softened, but she didn’t move when he squeezed her elbow. Obi-Wan swallowed down a sigh. The Temple didn’t hold celebrations; their life was one given to duty - not in a joyless servitude, but in the quiet devotion to maintaining a peace which freed others to enjoy such things. It was something she wouldn’t find in the Temple, the closest thing he could think of was…</p><p>“Well, there is one tradition I try to keep,” he admitted. Emily turned her face back to him, eyes focusing on his, a small flicker of curiosity brightening them. “Though, I’ll admit, it’s a little overdue. It would kill two Porgs with one pebble though,” he continued, talking more to himself as he smoothed a hand through his beard. “We’re going to need a change of scenery for it though.”</p><p>“You know that Quinlan already showed me all the areas I’m not supposed to be in, right?” she said, her mouth lifting into the shadow of a smile.</p><p>“I’d be more surprised if he hadn’t,” Obi-Wan replied. He gave Emily a gentle tug on her elbow, and she began to move with him again as they walked back inside. “I was thinking of somewhere a little further afield this time. Anakin, we’ll need a transporter.”</p><p>“You’re taking me outside?” Emily asked, when they’d reached the eastern hanger bay. Rows of transporters were laid out, Anakin moving ahead with explicit instructions to find something sensible.</p><p>“Well, it seems about time, don’t you think?” he replied with a smile. They walked towards the enclosed airspeeder Anakin had chosen. It was one of the faster models (of course) but at least it was equipped with a roof, so there was far less chance of Emily plummeting to her death due to Anakin’s flying. He handed Emily in, before climbing into the backseat beside her. Anakin was flicking on the engines at the front.</p><p>“Where to Master?” Anakin said, leaning back over the pilot seat to look at him.</p><p>“I have a rather strong craving for a nerf-burger, don’t you?”</p><p>Anakin grinned, turning back around before gunning the engines. “Hold on.”</p><p>Emily turned to press her face up against the glass window, as they lifted into the air and zipped away from the landing pad and into the early Coruscant evening. The lights from the buildings were already starting to glimmer as the sun set behind them.</p><p>“Want to see something cool?” Anakin said.</p><p>Emily said, “Yes” at the exact same time as Obi-Wan replied, “Absolutely not.” So of course, Anakin ignored him. The speeder spiralled, Obi-Wan grabbing the cloth at Emily’s back in case she went tumbling, and then Anakin took them into a nose dive, weaving through passing traffic lanes before he pulled up, shooting less than a meter past the side of a building.</p><p>“Could we please, for once, fly somewhere without you trying to kill us?!” Obi-Wan shouted at him. That managed to get an honest bubble of laughter out of Emily, which grudgingly almost made him forgive Anakin’s reckless flying.</p><p>“Does it just keep going down forever?” she asked, pulling herself onto her knees and craning her neck to see as far down past the window as possible.</p><p>“Pretty much all the way down to level zero,” Anakin said, looking back over his shoulder. “Though it’s dangerous going down any level below three thousand.”</p><p>“There’s three thousand levels?” Emily said, turning to Obi-Wan.</p><p>“Five thousand, one-hundred and twenty-seven, to be exact,” Obi-Wan replied, smiling as Emily shook her head in disbelief, before turning back to peer out at the passing buildings. It took around an hour to get to Coco Town, even with Anakin flagrantly breaking the speed limit. Emily was quiet, only asking a question every now and then, one of her hands pressed to the glass as she watched the city dip into evening.</p><p>They reached the main shopping strip. Anakin pulled in alongside the squat red and grey building, steam from it’s vents catching and fogging over the side windows.</p><p>“Here we are,” Obi-Wan said, opening the door before helping Emily out.</p><p>“Where are we?” Emily asked, pulling his cloak closer around her as she peered over his shoulder at the people walking past. Anakin stepped up beside them.</p><p>“This place has the best food in Coruscant!” he enthused, because of course he did. Any hint at the chance to fill the bottomless void of his stomach, automatically had Anakin ecstatic. “Just wait until you try the sliders - and the cakes!”</p><p>“I’m also hoping to introduce you to an old friend of mine. I think you’ll like him,” Obi-Wan said, leading them around to the front of the building. As soon as they turned the corner, the garbled sound of music and talking and the clattering of pans could be heard pouring out through the open doorway. The air was tinged with the smell of fresh bread, fried meat and the sharp tang of caf. The inside was already bustling with people, crowding around the scuffed bar area and filling the worn red booths. Obi-Wan wasn’t even sure they’d get a table. He hadn’t timed it well for the rush hour.</p><p>A streak of blonde hair and pale blue pushed through the milling people, quickly depositing a tray of drinks before turning round and catching their eye. Harmony, or ‘Harms’ as Dex called her, took a double take as she recognised his face, giving him a quick once over, before tipping him a rather lascivious wink. Obi-Wan tried not to smirk at her ongoing attempts to make him blush.</p><p>“I’ll go let Dex know you’re here,” she said, turning her scantily clad back to them. Emily’s eyebrows were raised when he turned around, and Obi-Wan felt the sudden compulsion to explain that really, she was like that with everyone! He heard his name shouted over the noise of the diner, turning to see Dex, grease-stained and wearing a beaming smile, as he waddled through the parting crowd towards him. Obi-Wan was treated to his customary hug, huge hands coming round to give him a rough pat on the back.</p><p>“Haven’t seen you in a while,” Dex said, then he caught sight of the others. “And you brought your padawan too. Look at the size of you kid! What are they feeding you at that Temple of yours? You’re a hand taller than the last time I saw you.”</p><p>“Nothing as good as your sliders Dex,” Anakin replied back, as the Besalisk clapped him on the shoulder, nearly knocking him off balance.</p><p>“Oh, and you’ve brought another Master from the Temple,” Dex said, looking towards Emily. It took Obi-Wan a moment for him to realise that she was still wrapped up in his brown cloak. Emily was already shaking her head.</p><p>“Oh no, I’m not a Jedi,” she said. Dex looked back down at the cloak, eyebrows raised. Technically it was against Galactic law, to dress up in Jedi robes and pretend to be one of the Order.</p><p>“This is Emily, she’s a friend,” Obi-Wan quickly explained, helping to ease his cloak off her. He ignored the heated kick in his stomach, when he pulled it back on and caught the lingering scent of her skin still clinging to the rough cloth. “She was just cold,” he clarified, before adding, “I was hoping to introduce her to the best food this side of Coruscant.”</p><p>“Well, you’ve come to the right place then!” Dex said, looking Emily over with interest. “Any friend of Obi-Wan’s is a friend of mine. Come on, I’ll get the girls to clear you a table. It’s a busy one tonight, but I could use the break.”</p><p>Before Obi-Wan could object, a couple was shuffled out of one of the larger booths onto a smaller side table. Dex disappeared back into the kitchens as they settled in, the droid waitress whizzing up to their table on her uni-wheel. “We got caf, jawa juice and blueshakes. We also got photon fizzle or plasma pulse cocktails for the adults.”</p><p>“Oh, I’ll have a jawa juice please,” Obi-Wan said, then realised that Emily probably hadn’t tried any of the things on the menu.</p><p>“You should get a blueshake,” Anakin said to her, from where he sat across from them on the booth, a menu in hand. “They’re really good.” Emily nodded her agreement.</p><p>“And two blueshakes for my companions,” he added. The droid pivoted on her axis, rolling back towards the counter.</p><p>“I try to come here at least once a year,” Obi-Wan said, watching Emily as she looked wide-eyed around the room. “You could say it’s almost a tradition, though I’m afraid I’ve been a little lax in recent years. Luckily Dex is very forgiving.”</p><p>“How long have you known him?” she asked.</p><p>“Oh, since I was around Anakin’s age, maybe even younger. We have a habit of helping each other out of tight spots. I think Dex may have been to more planets than even I have. He only really settled down here in the last ten years or so, and set up this Diner. It’s one of the most popular places to eat on Coruscant.”</p><p>As if summoned at the mention of his name, Dex made his way from the kitchens back over to their table, a plate laden tray gripped in each hand. “Hope you’re all hungry. Decided the best thing on the menu to try, is everything,” he said, with his trademark modesty. The trays were unloaded with practiced ease, until the table was overflowing. Dex jammed himself into the seat next to Anakin, as his padawan was already making a grab for one of the nerf burgers. Sometimes he despaired of ever teaching the boy table manners.</p><p>“So,” Dex said, his curiosity raising his browridge as he watched Anakin pile Emily’s plate with food. “How did you meet Obi-Wan?”</p><p>“He pulled me from a burning wreck,” Emily said, picking at a fried nuna-nugget. Dex went quiet, his eyes narrowing.</p><p>“What is it Dex?” Obi-Wan asked, a chill running through him.</p><p>“You’re that woman that was all over the holonews today, aren’t you?” he said to Emily, eyes going wide in realisation. “The one they’re calling the ‘Mother of Humanity’ or something. Hardly been anything else talked about all afternoon.”</p><p>“Wait, that can’t be right,” Obi-Wan said, shaking his head. “The agreement was that nothing would be released until Emily was ready, and certainly not to the Galactic holonews. We’ve not been notified about any of this. Do you have a holoprojector?”</p><p>“Sure,” Dex said, then waved a giant hand in the air. “Harms, bring us over a table projector, would ya?”</p><p>“What else did the holonews say?”</p><p>“Oh, just stuff about it being some big discovery; well for humans anyway. Said she was a ‘pure’ human, without any contributions to the gene pool from scummy non-humans like us, or at least, that’s how they made it sound. They’ll sure be some types out there in the rich old core-worlds that’ll be getting really excited about it.”</p><p>Stars, it was worse than he thought possible. Harmony brought over a projector, settling the disk down on a small clearing, as Dex hit a few of its side buttons, flicking through the floating images until they got to the news channel. The clipped voice of the anchor faintly echoed up from the table.</p><p>“- clearing a path along the Ison Trade Corridor. The Nothoiin Court has not released a statement at this time. And finally, in an announcement today that has rocked the scientific and wider community, leaked reports from a reputable inside informer, has revealed that a new species of human was recently discovered, dubbed Human-Prime, who scientists believe to be from the long speculated first homeworld of Humanity. Only one surviving member of this new species, a woman who was rescued several months ago from the airship crash which partially destroyed the Ruhullitz plasma-weld factory in the Industrial sector-”</p><p>At this, the hologram changed to a clip, taken from far away, showing the burning crater of the airship wreck, where it had punched a hole through the duracrete building. This then changed to a long shot, which showed Obi-Wan carrying the limp form of Emily into the speeder, before it flickered back to the news-caster again.</p><p>“-is currently being kept in the care of the Jedi Order. This unidentified female has been called by scientists, “The Mother of Humanity”, and is currently thought of as the only known genetically pure human in the Galaxy. Attempts have been made to discover the homeworld of Human-Prime, and to find others of the species, but so far there has been no further information to date. Scientists have said that this is one of the biggest discoveries ever made, dubbing the find as “The Crowning Jewel in Human History”. It is hoped that more information about the woman, and her homeworld, will be revealed in the future.”</p><p>Dex turned off the holoprojector, as Obi-Wan scrubbed his hands over his face with a low groan. This wasn’t just bad; it was absolutely the worst possible way for this information to be released.</p><p>“What does this mean?” Emily asked. Obi-Wan didn’t know where to start.</p><p>“Well,” Dex replied instead, “if you ask me, they’ve just managed to make you about the rarest thing in the galaxy. Just be glad you’re with Obi-Wan and the Jedi here, cause otherwise, you’d have every slaver, bounty hunter and collector from here to the Outer-Rim after you, and that ain’t something to take lightly, trust me.”</p><p>“We need to get back to the Temple,” Obi-Wan said, fighting the cold grip of dread in his stomach. “It isn’t safe for you out here anymore.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Chapter 24</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Please believe me friends, I am as perplexed by these recent developments as you are,” the Chancellor said. His translucent blue image wavered in the middle of the room, his back to Emily, as he addressed the Council members. “I have personally launched an inquiry to identify the source of this leaked information.”</p><p>“Given this incident,” Pei said, voice piercing the room, “the death of the captured scientist while in Republican custody, and the supposed accidental file corruption that wiped all of the collected evidence of Emily’s abduction; only an imbecile would deny that there are greater powers at work behind all of this. We should make it a priority to investigate this matter ourselves.”</p><p>Emily turned to look at Pei, who was standing directly beside her. Her large eyes were narrowed, and Emily could spot the tell-tale twitch of her upper faceflaps, indicating her annoyance. There were frowns of disapproval from the other Jedi around the room. Ben’s spine seemed to tighten a fraction on Emily’s other side, his posture becoming even more rigid. She had to admit though, he had an amazing poker face. She had no idea what he was thinking from his neutral expression. The hologram of the Chancellor slowly revolved to face the three of them, where they were stood near the doors of the High Council chamber.</p><p>“Master Pelri,” the Chancellor said, his voice losing some of its warmth. “If you have evidence that runs contrary to the completed investigations by the Coruscanti Security Forces, then I would be most happy to have the cases reviewed. Otherwise, the initial findings still stand. The Gran scientist was killed by a fellow prisoner during a dispute, while he was awaiting trial. Such barbarities are sadly, not uncommon in these places. And the corruption of the data was found to be caused by the rather blunt-force overrides used to hack into the memory banks-”</p><p>“I was the one who hacked into the facilities memory banks,” Pei said, interrupting him, “and let me assure you Chancellor, that those overrides did not cause the data to be wiped. Someone must have accessed the drives and manually deleted the files.”</p><p>“While I have every confidence in your abilities, Master Pelri, even the most illustrious of the Jedi are not infallible to making mistakes.”</p><p>“I can a-”</p><p>“Helping the matter, this is not,” Master Yoda said, quickly interrupting whatever Pei was about to say. Which was probably for the best, given the scowl she was directing at the Chancellor. “How to proceed in the here and now, this is where our focus must lie.”</p><p>“The wider public is now aware of Emily’s existence,” Mace Windu added. “The Temple communications hub is being flooded, as we speak, with requests from politicians, world leaders, artists, scientists and even the general public at large. This is not something that we were prepared to deal with.”</p><p>“Not to mention the direct danger this has placed Emily in,” Obi-Wan added.</p><p>“It is my proposal that we should look to act quickly and decisively, to help mitigate this disaster,” the Chancellor replied. “The longer Emily remains hidden from the public eye; the more speculation and suspicion will build and circulate around her absence. Already I have heard unfortunate rumours that many believe the Jedi to be holding Emily against her will.”</p><p>“If it wasn’t for the people in this room, I’d be dead…or worse than dead,” Emily said, speaking for the first time. Everyone turned to look at her. She could almost feel the intensity of Ben’s gaze on her face. “I owe them more than I could ever hope to repay back. And not just for saving me, but for their kindness - and their patience. I’m afraid I haven’t been the easiest person to deal with.”</p><p>“An admirably eloquent and excessively modest admission,” the Chancellor said, looking directly at her now with a gentle smile on his face. “Allow me to express my delight in finally being able to speak with you, milady. That you are here, in front of me now, after such a terrible ordeal, is a testament to your remarkable courage and tenacity. And - I have it on very good authority from young Skywalker - that you are held in the highest regard. Indeed, he has done nothing but sing your praises to me whenever we speak, and now I am beginning to understand why.”</p><p>Emily noticed Ben straighten even more at the mention of Ani. If he kept it up, he’d likely snap his own spine from the tension. Ben had mentioned before, in off-hand comments, his apprehension about the Chancellors interest in Ani. As Emily had only ever met the man once before, and that was from behind a sheet of glass in an isolation chamber, when she could only say a few words in Basic, she didn’t really think herself qualified to judge. Ani seemed to like him, and came back from their meetings happier and more confident in himself. Maybe it was good to have a friend outside of the Temple. Ben had Dex after all.</p><p>“I wouldn’t read too much into it,” Emily said. “I think Anakin likes me because he always gets my leftovers after a meal. He’d probably have even more glowing praise for the kitchen staff, if you asked him.”</p><p>The Chancellor laughed. “I will keep that in mind. However, I’m afraid my point still stands.” The Chancellors hologram turned again to address the Council. “While Emily is kept out of the public eye, only more speculation will flourish in her absence. It would be best now to nip it at the root, before it grows outwith our ability to manage.”</p><p>“And what would you suggest?” Ki-Adi-Mundi asked.</p><p>“I recommend that we move ahead with my previous suggestion of holding a formal reception; allowing a select number of delegates, scientists and reporters the chance to engage with Emily in a controlled environment - with the appropriate security in place, of course.”</p><p>“Won’t that just increase public interest in her?” Obi-Wan asked.</p><p>“Certainly, but in a way that we can dictate. It will allow the public to meet the real Emily, and not whatever creature they would otherwise concoct in their wild imaginings,” the Chancellor said. “I am sure that when they see how remarkably similar Emily is to them, public interest will gradually wane. Such is the fickle nature of the electorate - though in this instance, it is to our advantage.”</p><p>“For Emily, this choice it is to make,” Master Yoda said. “Our support, regardless will be given.”</p><p>“Would I be able to tell them about how much the Jedi have helped me?” Emily asked, chewing on her lip. Out of everything, the idea that people thought they were the bad guys in all of this, was something she couldn’t stand. Not the possible danger to herself. Not having to put up with invasive questions or being treated like a living fossil. But the idea that after everything they had done to save her life, and to help her build a new one, that people out there were laying blame on them. No, she’d happily put up with whatever this ‘reception’ threw at her, if she could set the record straight. It was the very least she could do.</p><p>“Absolutely,” the Chancellor said. “Indeed, it is my hope that you will help in the arrangement of this event. It would be a perfect opportunity to introduce some of the wonderful aspects of your culture. I have read much of what has been passed on to us from your Head Archivist, and everything from the history, stories and music of your world, is both intriguing and utterly engrossing. I am sure, once introduced to the wider public, all fascination with you personally, will be replaced instead with a keen appreciation of your cultures art.”</p><p>“Or they’ll just be disappointed,” Emily said, smiling. “I’m afraid that, of all the people who could have landed here from my world, you wound up with the least impressive person imaginable.”</p><p>“With such modesty, I doubt they’ll be anything but utterly charmed,” the Chancellor replied. “If we are in agreement? I will have my office contact your Temple to make arrangements. Now if you will excuse me, I’m afraid I have other matters I must now attend to.”</p><p>The hologram winked out of the air, leaving the room in a hushed stillness. Emily wasn’t sure if they were all meditating on their thoughts, as they often seemed to do when things went quiet, like there was a radio station that only they could tune into; or if they simply weren’t sure what else to say. Ben was still tense at her side, and Emily was worried that he wasn’t happy with her decision to agree to this event.</p><p>“I don’t like this at all,” Pei said. Emily was entirely unsurprised at that admission. Pei had been adamant that it was a bad idea from the start. Emily just hoped she wouldn’t take the brunt of Pei’s frustration. The woman was a verbal weapon of mass destruction when riled.</p><p>“I agree that there is more behind this than we have discovered so far. I think we should consider launching our own investigation,” Mace Windu said. “Although I do agree with the Chancellor on the matter at hand. The best thing we can try to do is manage the fallout from this, and hope that with time, interest will wane.”</p><p>“And what if it doesn’t?” Ben asked. Emily looked up at him. He met her eyes briefly, before turning back to the Council. She could see a shadow of worry darkening the soft blue.</p><p>“Then we must trust to the Force to guide us,” Windu replied. Ben did not look particularly comforted by that.</p><p>“In the meantime, help will be provided for the preparation of this reception. Obi-Wan, you and your apprentice will be responsible for organising the security. Should anything else be required, you can raise it either to the appropriate department or to the Council itself.”</p><p>“May the Force be with you,” Yoda said, in what Emily had learned to be the go-to phrase for a dismissal. Or as a goodbye. Or even one time as a, ‘please stop bothering me’. It had a plethora of uses.</p><p>Ben and Pei bowed. Emily gave the Council members a little wave, because that always seemed to get a raised eyebrow from someone, which never ceased to amuse her. As they got in the turbolift, she could feel Pei and Ben exchanging silent glances with each other. Emily decided to break the silence first.</p><p>“Okay, on a scale of one to ten, just how pissed off with me are you both?”</p><p>There was no reply.</p><p>“Okay, that’s pretty pissed, isn’t it?” Emily said after a few seconds. Ben broke first, letting out a long sigh.</p><p>“We’re not angry with you,” he said, though he still wasn’t quite meeting her eye. “But I don’t think you fully appreciate what you’ll be faced with. You’re about to step into the world of Galactic politics - and let’s just say that I feel safer in battle, than I do in the Senate.”</p><p>“We’re just going to need to get you prepared,” Pei added. “The best armour in war, is knowledge.”</p><p>Emily looked between their grim faces. Aw fuck, what had she gotten herself into?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Just a little bridge chapter here. Also, I've been loving the speculation in the comments. If anyone wants, they can find me over on Tumblr @theoraclewrites. I'm not gonna lie, I don't really know how to use the damn site, other than to look at Star Wars GIF's. But if you have any questions, feel free to gimmie a shout...or whatever you do to talk to people on it. There's a chance I'll figure out how to reply.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Chapter 25</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Emily had always hated clothes shopping. While some of her friends enjoyed making a day of it - trailing from store to store, trying on dresses and tops that were never consistently sized and only ever seemed to vary in colour and price tag; Emily would tend to skip that portion of the day and make an appearance later for the food and alcohol that inevitably followed. Life experience had narrowed her own clothing selection down to the ultimate ‘capsule’ wardrobe - skinny jeans and a plethora of jumpers that went from thick winter knit to breezy summer cotton. Occasionally she’d go wild; changing the jumpers out for a tank top on the rare occasions when Scotland would get sunshine, or layering some tights under the jeans on particularly cold days, but otherwise her clothing rotation covered all situations. Boring to some? Perhaps. One less thing to think about? Definitely!</p><p>Part of this economic outlook was simply that she didn’t have a body suited to most fashion. Emily was shaped like an ironing board. No hips or ass to fill out jeans. No chest or waist to emphasise with clinging tops. Dresses tended to just hang off her shoulders like bin bags. Boyish, her mother had always said - you’ll never need to worry about sagging. The thing was, once she’d hit her twenties, Emily hadn’t given it much headspace at all. It didn’t seem to have a negative effect on her dating life. In her experience, most men were just thankful for someone warm and willing. Her relationships tended to fall apart on things like boundaries and expectations - never on cup size; though it was often used as a parting insult on their way out the door.</p><p>So, with all that in mind, the fact that this was the second day she’d spent trawling through rack after rack of some of the most ridiculous scraps of silks, furs and - for some unknown fucking reason - metals, that she’d ever seen, was really starting to get to Emily. She wasn’t even sure half of it was clothing; some of the items fell decidedly into the realm of kinky bondage. She wouldn’t be surprised if she stumbled across a gem encrusted gimp mask somewhere in amongst this stuff.</p><p>“What’s the major economic output of the planet Scipio in the Albarrio system?”</p><p>Emily bit back a groan. This was another major contributing factor to her gradual loss of sanity. As if spending another day trawling through a dominatrix’s wardrobe wasn’t enough, Emily was now constantly being bombarded with a galactic pop-quiz. It was Pei’s turn today to play quiz master, with Ben giving up around early evening the day before, after Emily decided to throw her dinner at him until he stopped.</p><p>“Something to do with money, isn’t it?” Emily said, pulling out a garment that seemed to consist of nothing more than bronze-coloured chains tied to a long strip of blue scaled leather.</p><p>“Considering ‘money’ could be the answer for the economic output of every planet, I’m afraid you’ll need to be a bit more specific,” Pei said. She was sitting on a rounded cushioned chair in the corner of the room, not even glancing up from her datapad. Emily still had no idea why Pei had volunteered to sit with her for this. If anything, she was even <em>less</em> interested in clothes than Emily, if that were at all possible. How was she meant to help?</p><p>“I didn’t mean it like that,” Emily sighed. The scales had little ultraviolet flecks through them that caught the light. “I meant that they keep money there, right? Banks and stuff.” Then she held up the outfit higher. “Why?” she asked, pointing to it. Pei looked up.</p><p>“Why what?” she replied, entirely unphased, like it was a completely normal item of clothing and not something fished out of a sex dungeon. “That’s a Nautolan ceremonial honour guards’ vestment.”</p><p>“Yes, but <em>why</em> do you have it? It’s not exactly in keeping with the whole robes and cloaks thing.”</p><p>“Didn’t Obi-Wan explain to you yesterday? This is the Temple’s clothing selection for when we need to blend in with the general populace.”</p><p>“Who had to wear this to blend in?” Emily said, her mind racing through all the Jedi she’d met so far. The idea of someone as stoic as Master Mundi - or Master Windu - having to wear something like this, had her choking back a laugh. She could just imagine them both struggling to look dignified. They’d probably manage it too, somehow.</p><p>“I think Master Fisto had an undercover mission on Glee Anselm at one point,” Pei said.</p><p>“I take it back. This outfit was designed by a genius.” The idea of Kit Fisto wearing this nearly shorted out her brain. Maybe Ben had joined him on that mission…Emily’s mind blanked for a few seconds before rebooting.</p><p>“Anyway, you are partly correct,” Pei said, as Emily blinked back into consciousness. “Scipio is governed by the InterGalactic Banking Clan. The guest list is showing their Senator will be present. Can you remember who that is?”</p><p>They had been drilling her for a week now based on the list of names they’d received. It was meant to be a small number of people, but there were well over a hundred who had accepted an invite. Which she supposed, considering there were hundreds of thousands of planets in the galaxy, was probably a small number overall, but that didn’t exactly help calm Emily’s nerves - or help her with remembering them all.</p><p>“Fang Zar?” she replied, just randomly pulling out the first name she could think of.</p><p>“Fang Zar is the Senator for Sern Prime. That’s not even in the same sector.”</p><p>Emily was about to say something very pointed and entirely inappropriate about what <em>sector</em> Sern Prime could be shoved in, when the door slid open and Plo Koon wandered into the room.</p><p>“Please excuse my tardiness,” he said, his voice a low rumble that reverberated through the air as he bowed. “Council business unexpectedly delayed me.”</p><p>“Ah, Master Koon,” Pei said, standing up and setting her datapad aside. “Thank you for taking the time to join us. I’m afraid we are badly in need of any advice you can give us.”</p><p>“So I see,” he replied, the amusement in his voice clear as he walked over to Emily, looking pointedly at the leather and chain monstrosity still held in her hands. “This would be a bold choice indeed, for your first introduction.”</p><p>“Oh I’m not thinking of wearing this!” Emily said, rushing to her own defence. She tossed the thing back onto a shelf where it landed with a rattle. “Actually, I don’t think there’s anything in here for me to wear. Everything seems to have either too much material to it, or far too little.”</p><p>“That is why I have asked for Master Koon’s assistance. There is no-one in the Temple with a greater knowledge of the current social and cultural trends in galactic fashion.”</p><p>“You could say it is something of an interest of mine,” Plo Koon agreed. He linked his hands together as he walked past the racks and shelves filled with clothes, his eight long fingers intertwined in front of him. Master Koon was another one of the Jedi that Emily had to try and control her staring around; at least early on. Unlike many of the others, he had immediately introduced himself, sitting down with her and encouraging her questions, entirely unphased by her fascination. In return, he asked her about Earth, about her family and her country, about the customs and culture and everything in between. She was currently writing out the story of The Lord of the Rings for the Archives, in as much detail as she could remember, which he was very enthusiastically reading. They had shared more than a few meals together talking about the world Tolkien created - he was especially enamoured with the idea of Hobbits. It was easily one of the strangest friendships she’d made so far, if only in how entirely natural and comfortable it had felt from the beginning.</p><p>“Perhaps a different approach to this task would generate more success?” he said, stopping at the end of one row, before slowly pacing his way back up. “Instead of searching for a garment to wear, why don’t you describe to me what you wish your clothing to <em>say</em> at this event.”</p><p>“What I want it to say?” Emily said, looking around the room. “Does ‘I’m comfortable and modestly covered’ count?”</p><p>“Well, it certainly is one set of criteria to keep in mind,” he replied. Master Koon came to a stop beside her, looking down from the considerable height he had on her. It was funny; he was possibly one of the most alien of the Jedi that she had met so far, but now looking up at him, Emily barely registered the twisted loops of his external respiratory air sacs, or the thick folds and mottling of his orange skin. Instead, she looked for the tiny shift of expression in the muscles around his intricate metal eye-goggles and breathing mask. It was amazing how much he could communicate, through so little.</p><p>“You must keep in mind, however, that the clothing you choose to wear will be looked on as a representation, not just as who you are as a person, but of how you wish the galaxy to view your world and its people.”</p><p>“So no pressure there then…” Emily deadpanned.</p><p>“Think of it more as an opportunity, to express outwardly all the things you love most about your home.”</p><p>“That’s just the thing,” Emily said, running her hands along the racks of strange silks and beads and thick embroidered leather. “Earth is a big, complicated mess of people and cultures and beliefs and influences. It’s a beautiful, terrible riot of colour and personality - and I’m…not. I’m just me. I don’t want them to think I’m anything more than I am. And I definitely don’t want any more ridiculous titles added either. It’s already hard enough getting them to stop calling me ‘the Mother of Humanity’.”</p><p>“So you wish to wear something beautiful yet plain. Simple but complicated - while also being modest and comfortable…” Plo Koon said, after a long moment.</p><p>“Yeah. That should be easy enough, right?” Emily asked, smirking.</p><p>“Please allow me a moment, I need to cancel my other arrangements for today,” Master Koon said, as he bowed and walked back out of the room.</p><p>“I’m not going to get anything else done today, am I?” Pei said, folding herself back down into her chair. “I told you, this whole thing was a terrible idea.”</p><p>“Where I come from, it’s rude to say ‘I told you so’, just so you’re aware,” Emily replied back.</p><p>“You still haven’t answered my question,” Pei said, ignoring her reply.</p><p>“What question?”</p><p>“Who is the Senator who represents the planet Scipio?” Emily looked around again for the leather and chains, so she could have something to strangle herself with.</p><p>As it turned out, they only spent the better part of the day trapped inside the inexhaustible clothing racks of the Jedi’s collective wardrobe. Master Koon had a laser like focus, quickly separating out a pile of suitable clothing that didn’t fall within the BDSM category. Pei continued to quiz her on galactic politics, but Emily’s irritation was softened by Plo Koons additional asides. He explained the cultural clothing worn by each planet, detailing how the environment and history was told in the fabrics and styles they would wear. He told her how to distinguish Alderaan from Onderon by the simplicity of the former to the intricacy of the latter. The dark, heavy brocade of the Feenix from the pale, lights silks of the Chandrila. Emily felt like she’d learnt more in one day with him, than she had in the full weeks’ worth of studying prior.</p><p>Finally, just as her stomach was gradually increasing its angry grumble, Emily pulled on a dress that was so close to perfect, it nearly made her cry with relief.</p><p>“It’s not exactly modest,” Pei pointed out, indicating the split in the side and the gaps in the bodice.</p><p>“Couldn’t it be pulled over and stitched down?” Emily said, closing over the bold length of exposed thigh with some gathered material. “It’ll need to be altered to fit properly anyway.”</p><p>“Yes, the droids could easily make a few adjustments. What do you think?” Master Koon asked.</p><p>“I think it looks exactly like the last light of a sunset over the sea,” Emily said, looking down at the long layers of wispy organza. “It reminds me of home,” she admitted.</p><p>“Then it is perfect,” Plo Koon declared. Emily looked up, smiling. She dipped into a low bow.</p><p>“How can I ever thank you for your help, Master Koon?”</p><p>“I believe a meal and the chance to discuss the discovery of these creatures called ‘Ents’, should more than repay me.”</p><p>Emily laughed. “You strike a hard bargain.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ever since the episode where Plo Koon went with Ahsoka to the Coruscant underworld, and wore that awesome asymmetrical cloak, I have head-cannoned that the guy is the master of undercover disguises and is fully in the know about galactic high fashion. No-one will convince me otherwise! Also, I'm terrible with clothing stuff, but it's such a big thing in Star Wars, especially in politics. So I saw <a href="https://64.media.tumblr.com/72f40d9b6fa30c6dc1491f16a03df654/5e520df6014b97a1-d0/s1280x1920/de8f99a610ae16b1ee2f9090f0d1816ccf9d4124.jpg">this</a> dress - and figured it would do. I just not one for rambling clothing explanations.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Chapter 26</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“<em>You</em> are meant to be helping with preparations.”</p><p>Obi-Wan watched Anakin’s back straighten as he approached from behind, veering around to stand beside him at the end of the dining table. Anakin looked up, mouth bulging, as he quickly tried to chew through whatever he had crammed in there. Obi-Wan folded his arms across his chest, generously allowing him a few seconds, taking the time to look over the veritable banquet laid out on the table. There had to be enough food for a dozen people, with leftovers to spare. Had his padawan finally succumbed to the black hole that was his stomach, and decided to eat the Temple’s entire food supply in one sitting?</p><p>“This is obscene, even for you,” Obi-Wan said, shaking his head. “Why is there so much food here?”</p><p>“I’m helping out,” Anakin replied, voice muffled, as a small spray of crumbs scattered out of his mouth.</p><p>Obi-Wan winced. Six long years trying to drill manners into the boy, and this was what he had to show for it. “How is this helping anyone?”</p><p>“Ems said she needed a food tester,” Anakin said, shrugging and nodding to the plates in front of him. “So I’m testing the food.”</p><p>“What is all this? I don’t recognise anything,” Obi-Wan said, peering down at one platter. It had little rounded circles, with some kind of green and purple topping.</p><p>“Em’s been trying to make food from Earth. This is some of her…uh…attempts.”</p><p>“Is any of it edible?” Obi-Wan asked, looking back up at his padawan. Anakin already had another morsel half-way to his mouth. He nodded with the kind of enthusiasm that Anakin tended to only show for flying or food.</p><p>“Yeah, it’s great! These little cake things are <em>so</em> good, Master. And those round balls; she said they were called uh…falafels?”</p><p>“I am far more inclined towards the sushi,” Master Mundi’s said, from where he was sitting further down the table. Obi-Wan had been so focused on Anakin, he hadn’t noted the presence of the two Masters sitting nearby. “Although I believe it might be improved upon if Anarati eel was used in place of gooberfish.”</p><p>“That is an interesting suggestion,” Master Unduli said, her own small selection plate in front of her. “Anarati eel certainly has a firmer texture - but the stronger flavour may throw off the delicate balance of the dish.” Master Mundi nodded reflectively.</p><p>“Master Mundi and Master Unduli have been helping,” Anakin added.</p><p>This was getting ridiculous now. What should have been one rather small - and easily organised - event, now felt like it was rippling out to engulf the rest of the Temple. Suddenly he had Master Koon cornering him after Council meetings to discuss appropriate shoes for human feet; or Master Nu wanting his opinion on the best holoimages Emily had drawn to forward to the Senate officials for display. It was all anyone seemed to talk to him about, and Emily had thrown herself head first into the thick of it. Most of his days were now spent trailing in her wake, watching as more and more Jedi from around the Temple were swept into the preparations. Emily seemed to be unable to speak to someone, without somehow managing to recruit them to her cause. At this rate, half of the Jedi Order would be involved before the end.</p><p>“While I appreciate your assistance, Masters, I do apologise that you were asked to contribute your time to this. I am sure you have much more important engagements to attend to.”</p><p>“Not at all,” Master Mundi said. “This has been a far more interesting midday meal than I usually partake in. Although I would caution against the ‘chilli’ sauce, as it is called. I’m afraid Emily may have misinterpreted a biological weapon as a food substance.”</p><p>“I kinda like it,” Anakin said. As if proving a point, he dipped a little beige dumpling into a ferociously luminous orange sauce and popped it into his mouth. Obi-Wan watched his padawans lips flush red as his eyes began to water. What sort of horrifying food would cause that kind of reaction?</p><p>“I’m not even going to ask,” Obi-Wan said, watching his apprentice grimace and blink back tears as he chewed. “Do you know where Emily is now? I haven’t seen her all day.”</p><p>“She was with Master Ti in the music hall,” Anakin said, his voice catching on a sputtering cough at the end.</p><p>“Why would she… you know what? Never mind. I’ll ask her myself,” Obi-Wan said, shaking his head. Anakin was half collapsed over the table in a coughing fit, his face bright red and a sheen of sweat covering his skin. Obi-Wan turned to leave, calling back over his shoulder. “Oh, and Anakin? If you do insist on choking to death, please try to do so quietly. There are other people enjoying their midday meal around you. It’s rude to disturb them.”</p><p>Obi-Wan left the dining area and made his way towards the music and recreation halls on the upper west-side levels of the Temple. All Jedi were encouraged to expand their skills outside of the required training as part of the Order. Music and dance. Painting and carving. Whatever the inclination, all creative activities were supported. Much of the fine art and sculptures throughout the Temple were hand crafted by their own.</p><p>He walked through the bright and airy halls that held the music chambers. Since taking on Anakin as his padawan, Obi-Wan had little to no time to spare for his own recreation. He had no idea how Qui-Gon had managed to train him as a padawan, while still dedicating time to his interests. Obi-Wan felt like he barely had time to breathe, let alone indulge in a hobby. He eventually found Emily in one of the smaller rooms, curled up in a padded recess seat built into a circular performance chamber, the walls around her lined with a variety of instruments. This space had been built specifically for playing and listening to music, its domed ceiling reflecting and enhancing the sound of the instruments, so that anyone listening felt as though the music was all around them. As he approached her, Obi-Wan noted the beautifully crafted hallikset cradled in her lap.</p><p>“Anakin told me you were with Master Ti,” Obi-Wan said, a few paces from her little alcove. Emily had her legs tucked up under the instrument, her bare feet stretched out across the blue-grey cushions. “I had presumed you were receiving music lessons. Have you finished already?”</p><p>“Oh yes. As a matter of fact, I’ve single-handedly mastered every instrument in this room,” Emily said, gently plucking her fingers over the strings. There was a mischievous light in her eyes when she looked up at him. “Shaak Ti was so awed by my skill, I think she may never play again, out of respect for my peerless talent.”</p><p>“Very impressive,” Obi-Wan replied, smothering his own smile. He leaned against the edge of the wall, crossing his arms as he looked down at her. He watched her fight down her own smirk.</p><p>“I think the exact phrase she used was, ‘a generation defining genius’,” Emily said, her voice utterly serious. “I’m adding it to all the other titles about how brilliant I am.”</p><p>“And is there any chance I might get to hear the musical strumming’s of such a genius?”</p><p>“I’m not sure you’re mentally prepared for such unimaginable beauty,” Emily replied. She was losing the fight with her smile; the corners of her eyes crinkling with it. Obi-Wan grinned back.</p><p>“Oh, I’ll brace myself.”</p><p>“Fine,” she said, pulling her feet back towards her, making room next to her on the seat. “But you may want to sit down for it. I won’t be held responsible for any uncontrollable swooning.”</p><p>“Noted,” Obi-Wan said with a laugh. He tucked himself into the seat beside her, not really realising how small the alcove was until he was jammed in alongside her. Emily stretched her feet out again, resting them against his thigh, rebalancing the hallikset on her lap. She made a show of pretending to tune it, which would have been more convincing if she was actually twisting the correct spokes. Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows, which just made her laugh.</p><p>Then she started to play. Or at least, Obi-Wan was fairly certain that was what she was attempting. Emily clumsily plucked at the strings, the stilted notes almost forming something that could be called a tune. The beautiful, almost ethereal, reverberation sound which the instrument was famous for, was rendered into a jaw clenching whine under her heavy-handed treatment. Emily finished with a dramatic flourish, and Obi-Wan tried to not wince as the last wailing note was struck.</p><p>“Don’t applaud all at once,” Emily said, now fully grinning and seemingly delighted with the pain she had so brutally inflicted; not just on his ears, but on the good name of music in general.</p><p>“What can I say?” Obi-Wan replied. “You’ve rendered me speechless.”</p><p>“Twinkle Twinkle Little Star will do that to a person,” Emily agreed. “It’s the most complicated and inspiring song from my world.”</p><p>“I can see why Shaak Ti felt the need to leave.”</p><p>“Jealously is a terrible thing to witness in a Jedi,” she replied, sighing and shaking her head sympathetically. “I’m sure she’ll get over it eventually, the poor woman.”</p><p>They were both grinning at each other now, and Obi-Wan realised that this was another reason why he wanted this whole event over and done with. Not only was it taking up all of his time, and encroaching onto other Jedi, but it had also entirely consumed the quiet moments that he’d usually get to spend with Emily. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d just sat down and talked like this together. He had gotten so use to the long evenings and occasional afternoons together, he hadn’t appreciated how much he missed them, until they had been swallowed up in their entirety.</p><p>“May I?” he said, holding out his hand for the hallikset. If Anakin remained occupied with his food tasting, and no-one else came looking for them, there was a chance of snatching back a few hours together in this room. Obi-Wan would take what he could get. Emily passed the instrument over, her eyes narrowing as he cradled it in his hands. Obi-Wan started up a simple Mirialan tune he had learned as a padawan. He was surprised as how quickly the muscle-memory came back to him. It had been years since he had last picked up a hallikset.</p><p>“Ugh no!” Emily blurted out, after Obi-Wan had only managed to get a few bars in. She quickly reached forwards to tug the instrument out of his hands - his fingers faltering on the strings as it was wrenched from his grip. “I’m not having it. Give me that!”</p><p>“What?” he said, utterly baffled by the look of disgust on her face.</p><p>“You don’t get to be good at this too,” she said, holding the hallikset out of reach when he made for it. “I’m starting to reconsider the whole robot thing, Mr ‘I’m perfect and good at everything’.”</p><p>“That’s hardly fair,” he replied, pushing the hair back from his forehead.</p><p>“Oh please,” she scoffed, “name me one thing you can’t do then? Just one thing that you’re bad at, and then you can show off all you want.”</p><p>“I wasn’t showing off,” Obi-Wan said. “Anyway, there’s plenty of things I’m not good at.”</p><p>“Such as?” Emily asked, giving him a sceptical look. Obi-Wan took a few moments to think, smoothing a hand over his beard.</p><p>“Campfire cooking?” he replied back. “Anakin hasn’t let me cook anything over a fire in years. He says it always ends up burnt on the outside and raw in the middle. And, unlike you, I’m not particularly good at drawing. There’s also a Dug game called Rua’k’sha which your meant to play with your feet - I nearly lost a transporter on a mission to Malastare on that game.”</p><p>“Alright,” Emily said, reluctantly relinquishing the hallikset to him. “But just so you know, a game you’re not physically able to play, doesn’t count.”</p><p>“You say that, but Anakin is rather good at it. Then again, he does have frighteningly long toes.” Emily pulled a face at that, and Obi-Wan laughed, picking the tune back up from the beginning. She let him play without interruption this time. The notes echoed through the room, shifting and changing as they reverberated off the pale caramel walls.</p><p>“Does this song have any lyrics?” Emily asked after a few minutes. She had buried herself deeper into the upholstered seat, the side of her face pressed into the padded backrest. Obi-Wan hesitated for a second. He remembered the words, but suddenly the thought of singing to her - here, like this - tightened his throat. He had to look away, focusing on the patterned floor, before he could get his voice to work.</p><p>The lyrics were simple, and translated well enough from the native Mirialan; it was a song dedicated to the frozen crystal sands of Mirial’s most sacred desert. Obi-Wan had expected some sort of sly remark about his singing, but Emily didn’t say a word. She just watched him; her eyes glittering with warmth, her smile soft on her face, a few stray curls of silver hair brushing across the pale freckles scattered along her cheek. Obi-Wan would happily sit there and sing until his voice turned hoarse, if it would keep her looking at him like that. She was so beautiful; he couldn’t have looked away from her even if he tried.</p><p>The sweet rushing ache that filled his chest was so sudden and strong, it felt like it had squeezed the breath straight out of his lungs. His hand froze, voice firmly wedged in his throat, the song dying as it hit him. He had only ever felt this way once before; so long ago now it felt like it happened to another version of him - an Obi-Wan now lost to distant, regret filled memory. He had looked into different eyes then; the most beautiful blue eyes he’d ever seen in his young life - not the warm gold-flecked green in front of him now.</p><p>It was too much. He couldn’t…this…he couldn’t do this again. Obi-Wan was on his feet before he realised he’d started moving. He heard Emily say “Ben”, her voice filled with concern. He was already walking towards the door before he noticed the weight of the hallikset still in his hands. Obi-Wan turned to quickly press the instrument into Emily’s arms, not daring to meet her eyes, as he mumbled some half-baked excuse about a meeting he was late for. It was possibly the single most cowardly retreat he’d ever committed in his life, as he headed out the door and practically barrelled down the hallways.</p><p>This was…how could he have allowed this to happen? He needed to be alone. He needed to meditate. Because he knew exactly what this feeling was - filling his chest to the point of pain - all bubbling, beautiful elation and bone-chilling dread.</p><p>Love.</p><p>He was in love.</p><p>And the last time he’d been in love, it had very nearly broken him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry this is a bit late. I just wanted it to match how it played out in my head. :-) Also I may have spent Easter in a chocolate coma. Don't judge me.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Chapter 27</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She’d fucked up. Emily had completely, totally and absolutely royally fucked up - and she had zero idea on how to fix it. The thing was, Ben was just as much to blame; him and his stupid, beautiful face and his fucking heart-stopping voice. He had been singing about starlight on frosted sands and the endless wheeling skies, and he was smiling that brilliant, breath-taking smile of his as he looked at her, so of course - of course she must have let it slip. How could she keep a hold of it when she was trying to stop her fucking ovaries from exploding? There was only so much multi-tasking a person could do.</p><p>And she had been doing so well at it for ages now. Keeping all her emotions tucked deep down inside her. It was like good posture; you just had to build a habit of constantly drawing yourself up and in, again and again, until it became your body’s default position. Ever since she’d nearly drowned herself while distracted by a shirtless Kit Fisto during her tour of the aquatic living areas, and had to suffer the indignity of Pei scanning her hypothalamus and testing her hormone levels as it was, to quote, ‘utterly abnormal to be thinking about procreation so much’, Emily had clamped down on her thoughts so hard she was surprised she hadn’t given herself an aneurysm yet.</p><p>It wasn’t lust - well, not entirely lust at least - that had threatened to drown her again, sitting in that room, watching as Ben’s fingers and voice filled the air around her. If Emily could freeze a moment to live in forever, it would have been right then, with his blue eyes soft and a little shy as he looked up at her through the long shadow of his eyelashes. She couldn’t remember feeling so much love for someone as she did for him at that moment. Then he had stopped, his face wide-eyed with shock like she’d just slapped him, and he was off, out of the room - he couldn’t even look at her as he said something about a meeting, nearly breaking the doors entry button due to hitting it so hard in his attempt to escape her.</p><p>How do you say, ‘sorry I leaked my utter adoration of every cell in your body into the air’, to a celibate space-monk, who also happens to be the most important person in your life? Especially as he had been doing everything he could to avoid her since. He was a no-show at meal times, with Ani struggling to think of excuses for his sudden absence. He would appear at random throughout the day, always when others were around, his face and voice schooled into perfect neutrality as he’d make polite enquires without meeting her eye, before leaving as soon as he could. Now she was stood on the upper docking bay, as pressed and polished as she could make herself, her skin prickling as the cool evening seeped through the airy fabric of her dress, all her nerves dancing the rumba in her stomach - and he wasn’t here. Had she fucked up so badly he’d just leave her to face this alone?</p><p>There was a whoosh and clatter behind her, and Emily turned just in time to catch Ani coming out of the turbolift, looking surprisingly imposing in his long, sweeping dark brown robes and cloak. She could tell that he’d taken extra time to get dressed and ready. His face was scrubbed clean, his clothes smoothed out and his boots and belt polished to a high shine. There wasn’t a smudge of motor oil, dirt or food on him.</p><p>“You look amazing!” he said as he reached her, his lanky body looming over her even with the modest heels on her shoes. A bright grin lit up his boyish face, and Emily took a moment to pity all those poor girls that were sure to fall head over heels for him in the future. They’d never stand a chance against that smile.</p><p>“So do you,” she said, reaching up to playfully tug on his braid.</p><p>“Obi-Wan went on ahead to check over the security arrangements. He’ll meet us there,” Ani added, walking out to the open-air platform. Emily followed behind him, feeling a wave of relief at the news. She was stupid to think that Ben would just abandon her. He’d never left her before, even after she’d bit him and refused to speak to him for days. “I can’t wait for you to meet the Chancellor in person. I know he’s super excited to meet you too.”</p><p>“I hope he hasn’t gotten his hopes up too much,” she replied, looking out at the dark blue skyline and the glittering, endless lights of the buildings laid out before them. Even as they watched, an airship steadily grew larger and larger as it approached, blotting out the scenery behind it.</p><p>“The Chancellor’s sent his own shuttle to collect us,” Ani noted, as the silver and black airbus swept towards them and gently landed directly in front of where they were standing. A ramp emerged as the side doors opened. Emily followed Ani on board, careful to not go over on her heels. The inside was upholstered in crimson and grey velvet. Emily took a soft seat across from Ani. The shuttle lifted off without a word from the helmeted pilot at the front.</p><p>“You’re nervous,” Ani said after a few minutes, as they watched Coruscant pass the windows.</p><p>“Well, I’m about to be entertainment for a room full of people I’ve never met before,” Emily replied, giving Ani a small smile. “So yeah, I’m a little nervous.”</p><p>“You don’t need to worry. They’ll love you - I know they will,” he replied, all confident conviction. Emily felt her heart swell. He really thought far more of her than she deserved. “I can show you some breathing exercises, if you want?” he added. “Obi-Wan taught them to me, when I was little. I use to get nervous all the time.”</p><p>“Did they work?” she asked, trying to imagine what Ani looked like as a little boy.</p><p>“Uh…sometimes,” he said. Then he broke out into a sheepish smile. “Most of the time they just made me feel light-headed.”</p><p>Emily laughed, some of her nerves loosening their grip on her stomach. “I’ll just stick to the classic ‘picture everyone in their underwear’ tactic then.”</p><p>“What?” Ani blustered, looking horrified. “Why would you want to think of them like that?!”</p><p>“Well, you don’t <em>want</em> to see them in their knickers; it’s just a fact that no-one can be intimidating in their underwear. Especially if you picture them all in frilly pink lace.”</p><p>“You’re really weird sometimes…”</p><p>“I know,” she said, properly laughing now at the confused horror on his face. “I can’t even blame it on being from another planet. I was weird back there too.” Ani eventually joined her in laughing. It felt easier, knowing that he’d be there beside her. At least he had no reason to be awkward or avoid her.</p><p>“We’re here,” he said, pointing to a tall building sweeping into view past the window. “That’s five-hundred Republica. Chancellor Palpatine has hired out a whole floor for the function. It’s the most expensive place to live on all of Coruscant.” Emily leaned over to get a better look at the building. It swept up in tiered columns, glittering windows lighting up the façade. Something about it reminded her of the big Art Deco buildings back on Earth, like the Chrysler in New York, with its round vaulted arches.</p><p>“There he is, waiting to meet us!”</p><p>Emily squinted towards where Ani was pointing. A recessed landing pad grew larger through the viewing window. She could spot a small cluster of people, their forms slowly becoming more defined as they approached. Ani made to stand and she followed him, moving towards the exit as the shuttle came to rest, the doors sliding back as the ramp extended out. There, already walking towards them, was Chancellor Palpatine. He was dressed in embroidered maroon and black robes, shot through with gold detailing. Behind him followed two people to either side, one a tall blue-skinned man who Emily recognised to be Mas Amedda, the Vice Chair, from her research. On the other side was a smaller, ghostly pale woman, Sly Moore, Palpatine’s Senior Aide, dressed all in silver. Emily had never been so glad for Pei’s relentless quizzes. She felt like she’d already passed her first hurdle. Just behind and to the side of the group, Ben was stood, looking as pressed and presentable as he always did. She tried to ignore the rush of nerves that bubbled back into her stomach at the sight of him.</p><p>“My lady, words cannot express how delighted I am to finally meet you in person,” the Chancellor said, his voice ringing out as she made her way down the ramp beside Ani. Palpatine came to a stop in front of her, reaching out a hand. Emily hesitated for a second before realising that she was meant to do the same, her own scarred hand coming to gently rest in his surprisingly cool grip. He bent to place a brief, dry kiss on the back of her hand before straightening up with a smile. “I’m afraid Master Kenobi here has done me a great disservice today. He gave me no warning at all that I would be welcoming such beauty.”</p><p>Emily briefly glanced at Ben, where he was still standing to the side. He didn’t seem to react to the Chancellor mentioning him at all. He just stared at her, face blank and eyes unblinking. Emily had no idea what he was thinking.</p><p>“Let me introduce you to my friends,” the Chancellor continued, repeating the names and titles of both Mas Amedda and Sly Moore. They gave her stiff, silent bows in response to her hellos.</p><p>“Anakin, my boy. It is good to see you again,” Palpatine said, real pleasure lighting up his features. He tucked Emily’s hand into his elbow, indicating at Ani to walk on his other side, as he started to lead them back towards the large arched entrance before them. “Come now, there are many people impatiently waiting to meet with you. I can’t tell you how many enquires I have received since you agreed to this small reception. The response has been very enthusiastic.”</p><p>They came out into a large foyer, decorated in bright reds, bronzes and chrome blacks. There were statues and giant vases dotted here and there. Emily wondered if statues were just the go-to housing decoration in the Galaxy? She’d seen more of them in her short time here than she had in all the museums she’d visited back on Earth.</p><p>“Now,” the Chancellor said, as they approached a large set of double doors. “As agreed, you will be presented and announced to the room. Then I will escort you to personally meet some of the guests here to see you this evening. Now, there’s no need to worry, I will be there to guide you at every step. Should you need anything at all, let me know and it will be seen to at once. Agreed?”</p><p>Emily nodded, sucking in a few deep breaths to try and calm the churning feeling in her stomach as she stared at the doors. She felt an ache in her hand, only just realising with a start that she had a white-knuckled grip on the thick embroidered material over the Chancellor’s arm. “Sorry,” she mumbled, flexing the tension from her fingers. He just smiled and patted her hand, before nodding towards the doors. Mas Amedda swept ahead, pressing a button to the side that immediately slid the doors back, revealing a wide room beyond. The sound of voices, low music and clinking glassware rushed out to greet them. The Chancellor led her through the doors onto a slightly raised platform.</p><p>The room curved around in a large semi-circle. The whole back wall was lined with glass, the glittering lights and rushing traffic of the Coruscant night stretching beyond them. People in elaborate dresses and robes were milling around in small groups. Whether it was the large room, or the fact that a hundred and twenty people wasn’t as much in reality as it sounded, Emily was surprised to feel her nerves settle as she took everything in. Even more surprising was the large holoimages scattered around the floor and lining the walls. They were her drawings; rendered in three dimensions, with some of the animals animated to look like they were moving. She spotted her drawings of buildings like the Eiffel Tower, the Taj Mahal and the Parthenon, gleaming tall and transparent blue, people circling their bases as they pointed at the details she’d tried her best to carefully render. Elephants plodded along the walls, trunks swinging. Dolphins dove and twisted around each other. Birds scattered and swirled overhead. She wasn’t quite prepared for the wave of emotion that flooded through her, to see so much of Earth all at once. She had to blink back the prickle of tears threatening her eyes.</p><p>The noise slowly hushed to muted silence. All eyes had turned to where they were stood on the raised dais. The Chancellor didn’t even raise his voice, it seemed to naturally carry and echo through the space.</p><p>“Ladies and Gentlemen,” he began. “It is my great pleasure and honour to introduce to you, Emily Anne MacKenzie of Earth.” Applause echoed around the room. She could almost feel the press of their eyes on her. It reminded her of when the Jedi would focus their thoughts towards her; that shivering prickle that ran over her skin and raised the fine hairs on the back of her neck. “Now while I am aware that you will all be understandably eager to ask questions, I must beg of you to please hold your curiosity, as Emily has most graciously agreed to a short interview later this evening. For now, let me officially welcome and thank everyone for their attendance. I look forward to introducing Emily to each of you. Thank you.” Another smattering of applause, as everyone in the room started to talk again, louder than before, leaning in towards each other as their eyes seemed to stay latched onto her.</p><p>“There, that wasn’t so painful, now was it?” the Chancellor said, leading her down a small set of stairs. People at the bottom were already turned towards them, eyes eagerly raking over her.</p><p>“I suppose that depends on your definition of painful,” she said under her breath, which got a small chuckle from him. He motioned over a gleaming silver droid carrying a tray of fluted glasses filled with a bright blue liquid.</p><p>“Why don’t you have a glass of this Toniray wine?” the Chancellor suggested, plucking one up to hand to her, before retrieving one for himself. He took a sip, making a satisfied sound. Emily watched for his reaction. She hadn’t tried anything like alcohol since she’d crashed here, but if ever she could do with some Dutch courage, it would be now. “It is a most excellent vintage.”</p><p>Emily took a sip from her glass. It tasted a bit like old school sherbet lemons dissolved in gin. Emily drained the flute in one go, hoping that it would at least have some kick to it. Palpatine raised his eyebrows, and then motioned for the droid to refill her glass. Emily didn’t object. The Chancellor led her over to a group of very fancy looking humans. One was dressed in overlapping silver and gold metal disks, it reminded her of fish scales. She could almost hear Plo’s deep voice say, ‘Corulag; they are known to be ostentatious’.</p><p>“This is Baron Lazan Danthe of Corulag,” the Chancellor said as they approached. The Baron bowed low, his clothing rattling as he did. And that was how the next few hours went.</p><p>“This is Senator Rolak Megrile of Eufornis Major.”</p><p>“This is Senator Mee Deechi of Umbarra.”</p><p>“This is Crown Prince Kamran Qiesh of Cuyacan.”</p><p>“This is Senator Mon Mothma of Chandrilla.”</p><p>Names and faces rushed past her as she was led around the room. Emily found herself draining her glass around every third person she was introduced to, with the droid quickly topping it up the minute the last blue drop disappeared. Emily very much appreciated the quiet efficiency. Ani and Ben lingered close by, while managing to remain out of scrutiny. Once or twice, she noted a deepening scowl from Ben, as more and more of the wine seemed to magically vanish. At one point he caught her eye as she extended out her empty glass, shaking his head in warning. Emily ignored him, even adding a whispered, “keep it coming” to the droid as it wandered away. Everyone was exceedingly polite, though she caught one or two more intense looks, and more than a few people seemed to find their eyes wandering over the web of scarring along her right arm and neck. Emily supposed that, with their advanced medicine, they’d probably never seen anyone as scarred as she was. She wondered what they thought of it; it was hard to tell through the schooled expressions and polite smiles.</p><p>“This is Dr Aelis Tarea, one of our foremost scientists in the study of interplanetary evolution,” the Chancellor said, indicating a blue-skinned woman with soft purple hair. The Doctor did an awkward little curtsey, but her gold eyes were wide as she looked at Emily, a bright indigo flush spreading over her cheeks.</p><p>“You have no idea how excited I am to finally meet you,” the Doctor said, her voice a breathless rush as the words tumbled out. “I’ve read everything that’s come out of the Jedi Temple about you and your planet. You’re just…” her eyes ran Emily over from head to toe and back again “…fascinating! I know I’m meant to keep my questions until later, but I just have so many!”</p><p>“That’s quite enough for now, Doctor,” the Chancellor said, interrupting her. “Though perhaps this would be a good time to take a few questions on the podium, yes?” He turned to Emily, and suddenly she felt like she hadn’t drank nearly enough to do this. Would he give her time to down a bottle or two first, she wondered? He pressed a hand to the small of her back, leading her towards the podium again, and Emily took a few deep breaths as she tried to keep the wobble in her stomach from travelling down to her knees.</p><p>It was fine, she could do this, right? What was the worst they could ask her anyway? If she could survive the scrutiny of her rather uneventful past sex life by Pei, she could surely survive whatever they had to throw at her. Right?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Chapter 28</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Incoming - extra long chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Well, this had all the potential to be an absolute disaster, Obi-Wan mused to himself, as the Chancellor led Emily towards the raised dias. He watched as she lifted the swirling fuchsia edge of her dress, revealing a brief glimpse of pale leg that had him examining the ceiling supports and reciting the Jedi Manual for Lightsabre Maintenance in his head, as she started to ascend the stairs. If the reasoning behind her choice of dress was to have everyone in the room struck mute on sight, then Emily was to be commended on so thoroughly achieving her goal. Obi-Wan felt like he’d swallowed his own tongue, every time he looked at her.</p><p>He also felt the need to go and personally disassemble whatever droid it was that kept topping up her glass. Emily must have gone through at least two bottles of the expensive vintage so far tonight, and while he knew that her liver was larger than a galactic standard human, he still had no idea how capable it was of breaking down such a large quantity of ethanol. Although the fact that she still seemed steady on her feet, for the moment, was at least a small consolation.</p><p>“Ladies and Gentlemen, we have reached the part of the evening where Emily has kindly agreed to answer a few questions from the people present here tonight,” the Chancellor said, drawing the attention of the room. The background sounds of music and chatter faded until the room was silent. “I’m sure you are all as curious as I am about the marvellous world Emily originated from. You may ask your questions when ready.”</p><p>Obi-Wan watched as Emily twisted the flute of wine back and forth in her fingers, a hum of nervous energy surrounding her. He didn’t like how exposed and vulnerable she looked up there, under the scrutiny of so many people.</p><p>“I believe that the location of your world - Earth, as you called it - has still not yet been discovered. Do you remember how your ship came to crash on Coruscant? The information we received says that your people have not yet achieved FTL technology.” The question was asked by one of the scientists from Zerpen Industries.</p><p>“Starting with an easy one then?” Emily said, and Obi-Wan tried not to flinch as she tilted her head back and drained her glass. She didn’t even seem to be tasting the wine anymore, she was just pouring the stuff directly down her throat. He watched her fiddle for a second with the empty glass, frowning. Then she looked up; a small, slightly sad smile on her face as she shrugged her shoulders. “I honestly don’t know. All I remember was that the aircraft was shaking. I think the pilot had lost control; he was telling us to brace for impact. Then I remember seeing the walls of the ship starting to come apart. The air felt…thick…and electric - and then I woke up here.”</p><p>“What was that like?”</p><p>“Painful,” she admitted. “I don’t remember much. My arm-” Emily ran her left hand down over the raised skin of her right arm, “-it looked wrong, but I couldn’t understand why. My throat hurt, and it was hard to breathe. Then I punched a droid - which didn’t help things.” That received a murmur of laughter from the room.</p><p>“You say your world only has humans as the sentient species,” asked one of the representatives from Eriadu. “How did you react to seeing non-humans for the first time?”</p><p>“Not very well. To be honest, I thought it was just humans wearing, uh, masks-” she waved her hand in front of her face, as if in clarification “-or coverings. And then I thought that they were maybe a sort of Earth equivalent of an advanced droid. Let’s just say, it took a long time to convince me that what I was seeing was real.”</p><p>“And what did convince you?”</p><p>“Babies,” she said, her smile turning fond. Her eyes found Obi-Wan’s, and he could remember exactly how she looked that day, holding the youngling Grogu in her arms, her eyes wide with wonder. He returned her smile. “No-one would make a droid that cries and throws up on you at the same time.”</p><p>“What do you miss most about your world?” asked Paskra Dorvu, a musician of some fame from Coruscant.</p><p>“My family,” Emily replied without hesitation. “My friends. The food. The sound and smell of the sea. Everything.”</p><p>“There is a rumour that your treatment by the Jedi was rather torturous at first. That you were experimented on and left scarred…”</p><p>It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room. The uncomfortable silence that fell, as the reporter who asked the question just folded her arms and waited, eyebrow raised, her holo-droid floating in the air by her shoulder, recording everything. Obi-Wan quickly smothered the angry flare that ran through him at the accusation. It was exactly this sort of hateful, anti-Jedi rhetoric that had him so eager to avoid this event in the first place. The media loved spreading this sort of gossip about the Jedi, seeing them as easy targets.</p><p>“I believe that I have already addressed these vicious rumours, seeking to cast the Jedi in a distasteful light,” the Chancellor said, voice raised. He scowled at the reporter, but she didn’t seem at all phased. “While an unfortunate incident did occur, I can assure you that this was perpetrated by outside parties.”</p><p>“That doesn’t explain why Emily appears to have been left unhealed,” the reporter retorted. “It seems cruel to leave her in such a state.”</p><p>“I’m sorry my state offends you so much,” Emily said, her voice sharp. The unblinking glare she levelled at the reporter was enough to finally make the woman twitch. “But it didn’t work on me. Your bacta. I think I’m allergic to it. Actually, I think I was allergic to everything at first. For a long while, I couldn’t eat anything without being sick, either. If it wasn’t for the Jedi, specifically Master Pelri and Doctor Nema, who both worked very hard to make food I was able to eat, I would have probably just starved to death. In fact, they’re currently working on making a bacta that’s compatible for me, to help heal my scars - even though they don’t have to. Even though they’ve saved my life countless times already, and should probably be dedicating their time and talents to a better cause than me. But they’re doing it because they’re infinitely kind and compassionate and good, and I’m frankly disgusted that anyone would look to spread lies painting them as anything else.”</p><p>Obi-Wan’s heart swelled. Stars, how could he not love her? Standing up there, beautiful and defiant and practically burning with indignation, in front of an entire room full of politicians and media, a situation that would have left most people cowed. Emily’s eyes swept over the audience in front of her, hard and fearless, like she was daring anyone to contradict her. The reporter made no further comment, though a sour expression was on her face.</p><p> “The history and stories you have told of your world so far, are astonishing in how expansive they appear to be, especially for a world isolated from the galactic community. Do you know why this is?” asked the Director of the Humbarine Academy, his voice breaking the tension that had settled in the air.  </p><p>“Well, I suppose that when you spend thousands of years stuck on a planet with nothing but your own species for company, you need to do something to stave off the boredom,” Emily said. Her posture had relaxed again, and her smile was back, though a little more muted now. “I think that we just have a drive to create - to tell stories, to do things that have never been done before. I imagine humans here are the same.”</p><p>“From what I’ve read, a large amount of that boredom appears to have been relieved more by killing each other, than by peaceful creation. Your people seem to be especially violent towards each other,” said a Ithorian politician.</p><p>And just like that, the tension in the room was reignited. Enough of this, Obi-Wan thought, ready to lead Emily off the dais. He should have known better than to worry about her causing any issues, when there was a room full of politicians and reporters who were more than happy to stir up controversy on their own. She didn’t need to be subjected to their venom.</p><p>“Maybe we are,” Emily said, and Obi-Wan stopped in his tracks. She didn’t look, or sound, particularly offended by the accusation. “I don’t really know enough about the history of humans here to compare the two. There’s no doubt that we did fight a lot. I don’t think there was ever a point in our history where there wasn’t a war going on somewhere, even during the time I lived in, when our leaders would pretend to disapprove of that sort of thing, while still making and selling and dropping bombs on other countries far away.”</p><p>“I think it’s proof of what we’ve known all along,” came a clear response from the Governor of Concordia. “That humans are naturally made to be warriors and leaders. Here we have an example of what we human’s once were; a people built to fight. The reports say they have nearly three times the strength that we do, and bones five times as dense. A body designed to run for hours without tiring; to endure injury while still surviving. What must you think of us now, to see how much our strength has declined?” he said, the final question directed to Emily, as he indicated the room around him with a shake of his head.</p><p>“I don’t-” Emily began, but was quickly cut off.</p><p>“If by strength - you mean warmongering and genocide - then I would say that our movement away from that part of our nature is a marked improvement, Governor Visla,” replied Senator Mon Mothma.</p><p>“Yes, that sounds like something a weak-willed pacifist might say,” the Governor retorted.</p><p>“My friends, please,” the Chancellor said, holding out his arms. “This is hardly the time for such a debate. We are gathered here to celebrate the discovery of a new branch of the human race, not to argue amongst ourselves.”</p><p>Governor Visla looked like he was going to say something else, but he gave a stunted bow instead. “My apologies,” he said, his voice clipped. The room fell silent, the tension in the air still tightly wound. It felt like no-one wanted to speak up after that.</p><p>“We were a bit shit,” Emily blurted out after a long, awkward pause. Her words sent a small rumble of shock through the room. The Chancellors eyebrows were raised so high, they were almost launched off his head. Obi-Wan swallowed down a groan. Where had she learned <em>that</em> word? He was going to have a serious talk with Anakin later.</p><p>“Humans, that is - where I’m from,” Emily clarified. “We did some horrible, unforgivable things to each other; half the time over stuff as trivial as the colour of our skin, or a difference in beliefs or because of what patch of dirt we were born on. Mostly we did it because we wanted each other’s stuff. So yes, we were shit - but we were also at our absolute best. The world I left behind, the amount of progress we had managed to make, even in as short a time as a hundred years, was just amazing. The potential we had to keep on bettering ourselves, to improve the world we lived in, was limitless - even if, at times, it felt like all we were doing was going backwards.”</p><p>Emily brought her hand up to her pendant, which was held close to her throat by a loop of black ribbon. Her eyes were distant as she continued speaking - as if she was talking mostly to herself, instead of addressing the room.</p><p>“I don’t know much about the humans here. I know nothing about the differences between us biologically. And I don’t doubt that humans are still a little bit shit, when it comes right down to it. But when I look at what you’ve achieved, I can’t help but think that right now, you’re the best that humanity has ever been. Look at what’s outside that window! You’ve met and peacefully integrated with hundreds of other species - that’s something we could only ever dream of. You can travel to other planets, other star systems, in the space of a few hours. You have technology and medicine that’s so beyond anything from my world. I can’t begin to comprehend your potential to do even more, to better yourselves and improve the galaxy you live in. I’m in awe of what you’ve accomplished so far, and I honestly feel lucky to be alive to see whatever you do next.”</p><p>Her speech ended with another long silence. Someone quietly cleared their throat. Emily’s eyes widened, as if she had only just realised that she’d made a rather long monologue. Then someone started clapping, the sound of it echoing through the air. Surprisingly quickly, the clapping spread, until the whole room had joined in with the applause. Palpatine's smile was particularly satisfied.</p><p>“Well now, I think this is a good place to end this interview,” he said, voice rising above the din. “I think now would be an ideal time for a refreshment break. Please enjoy.” He motioned to Emily to take his arm, leading her down from the platform as the music started up, and droids wheeled out with platters of food balanced in their hands. The applause petered out, as the sound of voices rose, the crowd breaking off into groups again, likely to discuss the controversy. Obi-Wan felt like he could finally take a full breath. That had been even worse than he had feared.</p><p>He watched as Emily leaned towards the Chancellor, saying something to him that was too low for Obi-Wan to hear. Palpatine patted her hand, indicating a door to the side, leading to an external balcony. Emily broke away from him, making for the exit. Obi-Wan checked that Anakin was still in the room, before following. His padawan already had a plate of food in hand as he walked the perimeter. When Obi-Wan opened the door, Emily was stood with her back to him, head bowed as she leaned against a railing, arms spread out. Obi-Wan let the door close behind him before approaching.</p><p>“Well, that was something,” he said in English, coming up to stand beside her. “I’m not sure what exactly, but it was certainly something.”</p><p>“Where I’m from, we’d call that an utter shitshow,” Emily said. She let go of her death grip on the railing, and scrubbed her hands over her face with a sigh. “Just how badly did I screw up? Because it felt pretty bad.”</p><p>“I think you did remarkably well, given what you were faced with,” Obi-Wan said. He reached out to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but stopped himself when he realised. Touching her was probably not the wisest move, no matter how much he wanted to.</p><p>“It’s good to know that politicians are awful no matter what galaxy you’re from,” Emily agreed. She turned her back to the Coruscant skyline, all glimmering lights against the black of the night, and leaned her back against the railing. Obi-Wan took in her profile, her head tipped back slightly as she took a few deep breaths, letting them out in a long exhale. The usually wild curls of her silvery hair had been somewhat tamed - smoothed and twisted until they fell across her forehead and brushed along her throat. There was a smudge of something dark around her eyes, but that was the only addition to her face. Obi-Wan would have happily spent the rest of the night out here, just quietly drinking in the sight of her.</p><p>“Well,” she finally said, “at least the wine is good.” Obi-Wan watched, baffled, as a glass appeared in her hand. He plucked it from her grip before she could raise it to her lips.</p><p>“How…where did you even get this from? You didn’t - where were you hiding this?” he spluttered, looking around. It wasn’t in her hands a minute ago. He couldn’t even see a ledge or table nearby for her to have sat it on.</p><p>“Listen, I’m Scottish. That’s the only explanation you need,” she said, laughing as she tried to get it back from him. Obi-Wan decided to drain the glass himself - goodness knows he needed it. She was utterly impossible.</p><p>“Why did no-one tell me that I’ve been Captain America all this time?” Emily asked, watching the blue liquid disappear, disappointment writ large across her face.</p><p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Obi-Wan replied, setting the empty glass on the ground.</p><p>“The whole super-human strength thing that guy was talking about. Is that true? Am I stronger than the humans here?”</p><p>“Didn’t Pei talk to you about this? I’m sure she said she spoke to you about it.”</p><p>“Pei said I was dense,” Emily replied, crossing her arms and smirking. “Physically and mentally dense. I figured she was just finding new ways to insult me.”</p><p>Obi-Wan snorted a laugh. That sounded exactly like the kind of thing Pei would say. “Your muscles are denser than ours, yes. As are your bones. I’m not sure how much stronger you are, although you did manage to pry a welded metal panel from a wall with your fingertips - and you were half-starved then - so I’d say you’re probably stronger than you realise.”</p><p>“So, am I as strong as you then?” she said, straightening up, her eyes bright with curiosity.</p><p>“It’s doubtful,” he replied back, running a hand through his beard. Maybe if Emily had decided to take up literally any form of exercise during her time at the Temple, she might have built up enough muscle for it to be a possibility. As it was, she’d scoffed at any suggestion of regular physical activity, saying that she got plenty just walking from one end of the Temple to the other for her daily meals.</p><p>Emily’s eyes narrowed. “We should arm wrestle to find out!”</p><p>“We are not arm wrestling.”</p><p>“Okay…well am I at least strong enough to lift you up then?” she said, and before he had time to react, she ducked down, making to wrap her arms around the top of his thighs. His hands shot out, grabbing her by the shoulders.</p><p>“Emily! For goodness’ sake, would you stop being ridiculous for one second! If someone caught us…” he said, pushing her back as she shook with laughter.</p><p>“Spoil sport,” she said, tutting and rolling her eyes, her grin wide and irresistibly infectious as she looked up at him. “I bet Ani will let me try and lift him.”</p><p>“Oh I don’t doubt it,” Obi-Wan said, fighting back his own smile. “But if you could reserve your antics for when there isn’t a room full of the galaxies leaders just beyond the door, I’d appreciate it.”</p><p>“You think I can convince the Chancellor to arm wrestle me? I bet I’m stronger than him at least.”</p><p>“How is this my life now?” he said, shaking his head. Emily laughed again, then he felt a shiver run through her. Obi-Wan released his grip on her shoulders, smoothing his palms down to gently chafe her arms. One side was all smooth silk under his hands, the other textured from her scars. Another tremble ran through her, but it was different, finer. Before he knew it, he was leaning over her; Emily’s face close enough that he could make out the amber flecks in her eyes, the green darkened in the low light. Her cheeks were flushed and there was a slight tinge of aqua blue staining the inside edge of her pink lips. She was so close he could almost taste the citrus sweet of the wine lingering on her breath, and all he could think about was how much sweeter it would be, drawn from her mouth and tasted off her tongue. As if she could read his thoughts, he felt her shift under him, her face slowly inching up until her lips were close enough, he’d swear he could feel the heat of them.</p><p>There had been exactly three times in Obi-Wan’s life where he found his future at a crossroads, and the decision on which direction it would take, felt like it lay entirely outside of his control. The first was at the age of twelve, standing before Qui-Gon Jinn, who had seemed so impossibly tall and serious to his young eyes. He had looked into that gentle face, his entire future hanging in the balance on whatever those deep blue eyes saw in him. Then Qui-Gon had nodded, once, and laid a heavy hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, and in that moment his future was set before him.</p><p>The second time was at nineteen, standing on the airship docks of Sundari. Behind him, his Master was boarding their T-6 shuttle back to Coruscant. Before him, Satine was stood, newly sworn in as Mandalore’s leader, dressed in ceremonial robes shaped after the only flower that still survived in its war-blasted deserts. He waited, heart beating out of his chest, not knowing what had his stomach churning more, his fear or his hope that she would ask him to stay with her. But she didn’t say a word; she just stood there, tears glittering in her eyes, as Qui-Gon called him back to the ship - back to the Jedi Order. The last thing he saw was a single tear slide down Satine’s cheek, as he turned to join his Master.</p><p>The third was kneeling in front of Yoda as he paced back and forth in front of him, gimer stick clicking angrily across the polished marble floor. He would fulfil Qui-Gon’s dying wish, but whether that would be with the approval and guidance of the Jedi Order, or stumbling blindly outside of its support, lay on the Council’s final decision. Yoda cursed his stubbornness, and Obi-Wan whole-heartedly agreed with him, but it didn’t change the reality. Anakin would become a Jedi. That was the last thing Qui-Gon asked of him, and he would see it done. The relief he felt, when Yoda said that the Council agreed, was so great he felt faint with it. It wasn’t until that moment that he’d realised just how desperate the other path would have been.</p><p>And now he had come to another; looking down into Emily’s beautiful face. Love was such an impossible feeling; he’d never felt such utter contentment mingled with such an exquisite ache, as he did when he was near her. And Obi-Wan knew - as sure as he’d known anything in his life - that if she kissed him now, he’d never stop. That his future would suddenly find itself veering off in a new, unplotted direction; one of constant uncertainty and broken promises - not just the ones made to Qui-Gon, to Anakin and to the Jedi Order - but also the promise he’d made in his heart to Emily. To keep her safe.</p><p>Outside of the protection of the Jedi Order, Obi-Wan knows that she’s nothing but a target for bounty hunters and slavers. Outside of the Temple, Emily has even less experience than he does about day to day living as a normal citizen. How would he be able to look after her, to keep a roof over their head <em>and</em> protect her from the scum of the galaxy at the same time? He couldn’t; it would be impossible. So why then, in spite of it all, did he want nothing more than for her to press her lips against his?</p><p>A second passed. Then another. Emily didn’t move, either to draw away or to stretch forward. He could feel her breath fluttering sweet and warm against his face. She was looking up at him, watching, eyes shadowed beneath her eyelashes. It was like she was waiting for something - for him. And then Obi-Wan realised; she was letting him decide - to kiss her, or to walk away. To abandon duty on the wild hope that she wanted him, that she could love him, as much as he loved her - that this wasn’t just a drunken impulse for her to regret and for him to throw his life away on.</p><p>“I…” the words caught in his throat. Obi-Wan wasn’t even sure what he was going to say. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. It broke his heart to say it, to watch as a flicker of hurt crossed her face. He wanted her so much - more than he’d wanted anything in his life. But he’d made a promise, to see Anakin become a Jedi Knight - to keep Emily safe. He couldn’t break those, not even for her. Obi-Wan watched her slip from him. He felt all the warmth leave him as she drew back from under his hands.</p><p>“We should go back inside,” she said, turning away from him towards the door. He searched for the words to explain, to try and make things right, but they eluded him as he watched her walk away. Emily didn’t say a thing, as the door slid shut behind her, leaving him standing alone in the dark.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I did tag this to be the slowest of burns - you didn't think I'd make this an easy ride, did you?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Chapter 29</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi everyone. Sorry for the delay on this. It was announced last week that lockdown was relaxing, and while it's nice that I can now travel to see family and friends, it has also meant that my workplace now wants us to go back in. This means that  the four hours a day I had gained for writing, by missing out on a commute and having lunch at my desk, is now lost to me again. I'm not giving up on writing this fic though, but I will be forced to change the updates to twice a week to compensate. I'm thinking every Monday and Friday, roughly. It's a bit disappointing, but I am committed to getting this damn story out of my head. I hope you all don't mind.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Everything from the point where she’d turned to leave Ben on the balcony, till now - staring blankly down at an assortment of plated foods and colourful drinks - was little more than a numb blur to Emily. There had been voices and faces; someone had taken her hand. There were questions, accompanied by laughter at whatever she’d managed to muster in response. Another glass was placed in her hand, then another. The only thing filling her head was <em>why</em>? Why had she done that? Why would she put herself in that position? What in the ever-living fuck made her think that Ben felt anything for her?</p><p>Because he’d looked at her softly? He looked at everyone with kindness. Because he’d touched her? He was just stopping her fucking stupidity. Because she so desperately wanted to believe that someone like him could think anything of someone like her?</p><p>Bingo.</p><p>God, where the hell was the tequila in this bloody place? That blue piss felt like it had barely given her a buzz. There were other glasses laid out on the polished metal table, all odd twisted shapes and filled with ominous looking liquids. One bottle bubbled pink and orange like a lava lamp. Would that get her so utterly shit-faced, she could just blank out the whole night? Emily picked it up, looking down in surprise at the tremble in her hands, setting a quiver through the floating bubbles. Jesus, she needed to pull herself together.</p><p>“I wouldn’t recommend that particular beverage…unless your salivatory glands can neutralise the neurotoxins, that is.”</p><p>Emily looked up from the bottle to the man standing surprisingly close beside her. How long had he been there for? She hadn’t heard a sound. He was tall and broad, dark hair slicked back and a neatly trimmed goatee framing his smile. His clothes were simple but fine - blue grey and silver, with a subtle embroidery that had Plo Koon’s voice echoing ‘Alderaan’ in her head.</p><p>“Senator Organa,” Emily said, vaguely remembering their previous introduction. “Sorry, I was just looking for something that I ah…could…”</p><p>The Senator calmly watched as she fumbled her words. What was she going to say? Kindly point me to the bottle that will nuke the largest number of braincells possible - I’d like to get as wasted as an un-evolved human can be? Probably not the impression she should be making, even if it was a far more honest one.</p><p>“…I’d like a drink,” she finished lamely. Senator Organa’s smile turned decidedly sympathetic.</p><p>“I imagine this all must be a little overwhelming for you,” he said, his eyes drawn to the shaking bottle still clutched in her hand. Emily set it down on the table, twisting her hands together as she mentally begged her body to get a fucking grip on itself.</p><p>“That’s one word for it alright,” she admitted, trying not to think about how the heat of Ben’s hands still seemed to be seared into the skin of her arms. Would things ever be normal between them after this? Could they ever be, after she’d practically thrown herself at him? It’s not like she’s ignorant to the teachings of the Jedi Order, or to the vows Ben had made. No attachments or possessions - it was one of the first things she’d learned, speaking with Ani all those months ago.</p><p>“If I may offer some unsolicited advice?” Senator Organa said, his voice pulling her from her thoughts. She blinked up into his warm brown eyes. “I have found that excessive alcohol consumption around politicians, is something which often leads to nothing but headaches and regrets the following morning.”</p><p>“I’m afraid I’m going to have those regardless,” Emily said, shrugging her shoulders.</p><p>“Well, if that’s the case,” the Senator replied, reaching over the table to grab up a bottle of dark, almost burgundy brown liquid, “then I would personally recommend the Savareen Brandy. It is quite delicious - and also far less likely to destroy your stomach lining.”</p><p>“That sounds like a winner,” Emily agreed, picking up two empty glasses. Senator Organa poured a generous measure into each one, before taking the offered glass. He raised it in his hand in the seemingly universal signal for a toast.</p><p>“To new friendships,” Organa said, and it was with such sincerity, Emily couldn’t help but return his smile, clinking her glass against his.</p><p>“I’ll drink to that.”</p><p>The first sip of the reddish liquid was like a mouthful of fire. It tasted like burnt gingerbread and treacle, all smoky - slightly acrid - sweetness and warmth. It left a wake of molten heat as it slid down her throat, leaving a tingling aftermath on her tongue and the roof of her mouth. Emily wished she’d found it sooner; she’d happily tank the full bottle right now.</p><p>“I must say, while very unconventional, I found your speech about the progress of the human race to be quite inspiring,” Organa said, as Emily enjoyed her second mouthful. “I think we often forget just how much good has been achieved. It is easy to lose sight of our accomplishments, and often it takes an outside eye, such as yours, to help put things back into perspective. Did you often make public speeches on your home-world?”</p><p>“Oh God no,” Emily said, shaking her head. “I had a job as an administrator. I eh…”</p><p>Did they even have admin staff here? She would imagine so, but it was probably droids doing it all, rather than people like her. “I just pushed datapads around, as it were. Other than the occasional dry business presentation, I would usually try to avoid public speaking at all costs. Mainly because of what you just witnessed tonight.”</p><p>“Well, I believe you may have missed your calling, and we could certainly use more representatives who speak of progress and positivity, rather than regression and isolation. But enough about that, I was hoping that a few of my colleagues and I might have the opportunity to speak to you further?”</p><p>“I’d like that,” she replied. The Senator offered his arm, and after a brief moment of hesitation, Emily quickly turned to refill her glass with brandy, offering a top up to the openly amused Organa, before looping her arm in his and letting him draw her back into the crowded room. Emily looked around, but couldn’t see Ben anywhere. She wondered if he even decided to come back into the room. Maybe he was still out on the balcony, desperately trying to avoid her? The thought made her feel sick.</p><p>“I believe you have all been introduced?” Organa said, coming to a stop before a small group of people. They turned to smile at her, and Emily noted that they were all Senators. She recognised the representatives from Senex, Chandrila and Sern Prime among them.</p><p>“We were just admiring your drawings,” said Teer Tanel, her fan shaped headdress bobbing as she nodded to the holoimage of a galloping herd of horses Emily had drawn. The horses looked like they were speeding across an open plain, tails and manes flickering in a non-existent wind. “They are quite beautiful, I must say. Your world seems to be rich in a wide variety of lifeforms.”</p><p>“Yes, it is,” Emily said. She regretted having never ridden a horse. It was one of so many things she’d always meant to do - had assumed she’d get the opportunity to do in the future. It was just one of a million or so regrets she now held about how much of her life she’d put off living while she’d still had the chance. “Earth has so many animals, it would take years to draw just the ones I can name, never mind the millions more I can’t.”</p><p>“It is the stories from your world that have so thoroughly arrested my attention,” Senator Mothma said. Although around the same height as Emily, Mon Mothma had an incredible presence. When she spoke, it felt like everyone around her stopped to listen. “There was one - Nineteen Eighty-Four I believe it was called. We have discussed it amongst ourselves for many weeks now. While you say it is a fictitious account, I must confess that the scenario it portrayed was quite terrifying. That democracy and freedom of speech - indeed just the idea of them - could be perverted to such an extent…”</p><p>“I believe it is so terrifying a concept, precisely because one can see the mechanisms it describes - even within our own galaxy,” Senator Zar said, nodding his head in agreement as he brushed a wrinkled hand over the long white bristles of his beard. “The erosion of free speech and debate - how often have we seen those very tendrils creep into the heart of our own democracy?”</p><p>“That is why the Senate - and the Republic it represents - must be protected at all costs, my friends.” Chancellor Palpatine’s voice rang out behind her. Emily startled a little, turning around to see that the Chancellor was directly behind her, Ani standing close to his side. “It lies with us, to prevent such an awful scenario from occurring.”</p><p>The others in the group nodded and murmured their agreement.</p><p>“Now, let us not tire Emily with our debates,” the Chancellor continued, coming up to stand beside her, his smile turning markedly fond as he addressed her. “You must forgive us; it can be difficult at times for we politicians to reserve our musing only to the Senate chambers.”</p><p>“If you want a good story, you should get her to tell you about this amazing warrior called Buffy,” Ani said, eyes lighting up. “She fights evil, blood drinking monsters that attack the humans in her world.”</p><p>Emily nearly choked on her drink. Everyone had turned to her, eyes alight with interest, and it was all she could do not to burst out into a fit of laughter. The only reason she had told Ani the story of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, was when he was explaining to her why he was called ‘the Chosen One’, she’d blurted out a ‘oh, like Buffy?’ and ever since then, Ani couldn’t get enough of the stories about a teenage girl destined to battle evil and save the world.</p><p>“Now that does sound like quite a tale,” Senator Organa confirmed, and that was how Emily spent the next hour or so trying to explain hellmouths, vampires and demons to some of the most important people in the Galaxy. Her life was so fucking surreal now, there wasn’t enough brandy on Coruscant to make it feel normal.</p><p>The evening wore on, and Emily was fairly certain that the brandy was really starting to kick in, as she felt the conversations beginning to slip past her, and a bone deep tiredness was settling into her body. There came a point when she noticed that the room was beginning to thin out, with less and less noise of talking around her. It wasn’t until she found herself shaking the hand of some writer or another, whose name she’d totally forgotten, as they pressed a thin metal card in her hand and promised her a lucrative publishing deal - should she ever want to sell her stories - that Emily realised the evening was winding down and people were leaving.</p><p>“It was an honour and a pleasure to be able to speak with you, Emily,” Senator Organa said, taking her hand and bowing as he made to leave. He had stayed till the end, with only a handful of people still lingering in the vast, deserted room now. “Please let me extend an open invitation to you, to visit my home world of Alderaan. It is a beautiful place, and I speak for both my wife and myself, when I say that you would be given the warmest of welcomes.”</p><p>“That’s very nice of you,” Emily said, feeling a genuine rush of emotion flood her. She felt herself blinking back tears and knew then, for certain, that she was completely and totally smashed. She wanted to give him a massive hug and sob into his embroidered blue shoulders. “Though I’m not sure I’m allowed to leave the Temple.”</p><p>“I can’t see why not,” he said, smiling. “You are a guest, and not a prisoner after all. And I can guarantee that you will be kept perfectly safe there, you have my word. The Queen’s honour guard would be assigned to your protection at all times.”</p><p>“I really would love that,” Emily replied. Just the idea that she could go on a spaceship and actually travel to another world, a completely new and alien planet, almost made her dizzy. And he was right, why couldn’t she do that? She had spent a previous life putting off so many experiences, and now she had a whole galaxy of new ones to explore. Emily was determined she wouldn’t waste what precious time she had again.</p><p>“Then I will contact the Jedi Temple myself, first thing tomorrow, to discuss the arrangements. I look forward to speaking to you again soon. Goodnight and farewell for now.”</p><p>Emily waved to him as he left the room, the door swishing closed behind him. She looked around, taking in the now looming blue images of her old life. She walked towards a drawing she’d made of Culzean Castle, the image of it’s looming walls perched on a sheer cliff over a glittering blue sea, was one she’d drawn again and again since she was a child. Emily closed her eyes, picturing the sun painting its walls in gold; the smell of spring grass and wild garlic coming from the forest behind, the salt tang of the sea carrying it off across the rocky shores. It was her favourite place in the whole world, and she’d never get the chance to wander the seaweed strewn pools, looking for colourful shells and scrambling over slippery rocks with her family. She’d never sit on its warm stone battlements, eating ice-cream and watching the kids dash around the rambling gardens. Emily wiped away a stray tear that managed to slip past her eyelids.</p><p>“Emily I-” She opened her eyes with a start to see that Ben was standing directly in front of her. He was frowning, and before she could say anything, he took a step, hands out like he was going to touch her again and she couldn’t…just couldn’t <em>cope</em> with that right now. Emily’s stomach felt like it was trying to retract back into her spine.</p><p>“Emily, my dear, if I may beg a moment of your time?” Palpatine’s voice interrupted. He was standing at the door to another room, Ani beside him again, and all she could feel was utter relief at being saved from any more humiliation. Ben dropped his arms, stepping back from her like he’d been caught with his hands in the cookie jar. She nearly stumbled over the hem of her dress, she was so quick to cross the room to him.</p><p>“We will talk again soon my boy,” the Chancellor said to Ani, patting him on the shoulder as Emily approached them. Ani bowed to him, a bashful smile on his face as he retreated. The Chancellor motioned to Emily to join him in the room beyond. She entered into the small chamber, it’s red walls and carpets making it feel even closer. There were windows here, looking out onto the city, and low cushioned booths tucked in against the walls. Emily could only guess that it was a waiting area of some sort.</p><p>“I am most impressed with how well you navigated this evening,” the Chancellor said, Emily keeping pace beside him as he walked towards the windows. Speeders zipped past like fireflies in the darkness. “It is not an easy feat, to impress a room full of scientists and Senators, believe me.”</p><p>He stopped, turning to address her. The alcohol was really hitting Emily now. Her head felt fuzzy, like it was filled with cotton wool and static. It took all of her effort to focus on what he was saying to her. “I wonder if you have considered what trajectory your life outside the Jedi Order may take?”</p><p>“Outside?” she said, the word feeling like it was stuck to her tongue.</p><p>“Of course. The Jedi Order is a noble institution, but famously known for isolating itself from those not blessed with their knowledge of the Force. I’m afraid they will not shelter you forever. Someday, perhaps soon, you may find yourself in need of a new place to call home. If such an event were to occur, I would have you consider joining me as a representative for the Galactic Republic.”</p><p>Emily felt alarm grip her, the cold fingers of fear clutching at her chest. She had never even considered that she may be asked to leave the Temple one day; that it wouldn’t be her home. It felt like she was building up a new family around her - one that she was growing to love despite their differences. Emily cared about them, all of them, but she hadn’t considered that they didn’t return that feeling. That she was more of a burden to them, to be shuffled out the door as soon as possible, than someone they wanted in their lives forever. ‘No attachments’ ran like a mantra through the foggy pressure building in her head. Why would they want her, when they did everything they could to train themselves to not want anything?</p><p>“You need not fear my dear,” Palpatine said, his voice drowning out everything. Emily hadn’t realised that she’d closed her eyes, until she opened them to find his blue-grey ones looking back at her, closer than she had expected. He placed his hands on her shoulders, just like Ben had done no more than a few hours ago, but the shiver that crawled through her at his touch made her want to shrink down into nothingness. It felt like the air was pressing in around her, like a vibration over her skin and stealing the oxygen from her lungs. She couldn’t think for it, couldn’t think for anything but the horrible realisation that she was alone, that she had nothing - was nothing - and that eventually, she would be tossed aside by the people she loved.</p><p>“You have so much potential, Emily. There is so much that we could do together, you and I, to make this galaxy a better place.” His hands slithered down her arms, and something deep inside her felt like it was screaming. “I can take care of you. I can protect you. You would always be safe by my side, if you would join with me, Emily.”</p><p>The pressure in her head felt unbearable now, like a blinding migraine searing its way across her brain. She could hear her own heartbeat pounding blood in her ears. Emily’s vision blurred as she saw the pale outline of her hand clutching at the dark material over the Chancellor’s chest. She was going to pass out, she realised. Right here, on the blood red carpets. There was a noise, and just as suddenly as it had rushed over her, the enveloping shadow and pressure disappeared.</p><p>“My apologies for the interruption Chancellor,” Emily heard Ben say. She took in a deep, stuttering breath, and then another, as she felt her head clear again, a lingering buzz and pain behind her eyes left in its wake. She realised that she was still clinging to the Chancellors robes, and on shaky feet, she relaxed her grip, stepping back. Palpatine’s own palms dropped from her arms.</p><p>“You are just in time Master Kenobi. I fear the refreshments from this evening seem to have caught up with Emily. I believe that she may not be feeling very well.”</p><p>Emily rubbed her hands over her face, pressing her fingers into her eyelids. God, she really was wasted. Had she nearly collapsed like some drunken bum in front of the leader of the Galactic Republic?</p><p>“If you would be so kind as to make sure that she is safely returned and cared for?” Palpatine said, and Emily pulled her hands away, blinking bleary-eyed at the man in front of her.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what came over me,” she said, shaking her head.</p><p>“Savareen Brandy would be my guess,” Palpatine replied, smiling. Emily felt Ben’s hand on her elbow. She turned to him but he wasn’t looking at her. He was dipping a bow to the Chancellor. “Let us say farewell for the moment my dear. It is my hope that we shall meet again very soon.”</p><p>“Uh…yes,” was the best Emily could mumble out, as she felt Ben tug and steer her from the room, her legs feeling like they were about to dip out from under her. She turned back, trying to think of something more diplomatic to say as a goodbye, but she couldn’t get her mouth to work. Emily caught a final glimpse of Palpatine’s outline, cutting a dark shape even deeper than the night sky behind him, before Ben guided her out the door.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oh, and <a href="https://www.celticcastles.com/castles/culzean/img/cropped/cliff.jpg">Culzean Castle</a> is a real place, and one of my favourites. Walking through the woods and eating ice-cream while perched on bronze canons mounted to the battlements, is the best.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Chapter 30</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“One of you had better have lost a limb - or worse - otherwise I’ll take one myself for waking me up at this hour.” Pei’s voice rumbled through the medical bay, her cloaked figure trundled in after it, dark eyes narrowed to little more than glittering ebony strips. Anakin shuffled on the spot.</p><p>“It’s Emily,” he said, stepping back as the Sullustan approached the medibed. Obi-Wan didn’t look up as Pei approached; he was too focused on where the back of his hand gently pressed against Emily’s pale cheek, the colour and warmth drained from her skin, the glow of her lifeforce feeling cold and dimmed as he brushed his mind over it with the Force. She trembled a little and sighed, shaking her head before opening her bleary eyes up to stare at the ceiling.</p><p>“I’m fine,” Emily croaked, sounding the furthest thing from it.</p><p>“What happened?” Pei snapped, a stubby tanned hand reaching down to settle against Emily’s forehead as Obi-Wan withdrew his own. He looked up at Pei’s face, a frown wrinkling her brow as she focused; he wasn’t sure what to say, how to explain any of this.</p><p>“I think she’s had too much to drink,” he said, though it sounded a little lame when said out aloud.</p><p>If Obi-Wan truly thought it was only alcohol, he would have taken Emily to her room and had MEL scan her instead, maybe even have found a hydration tonic for her to drink before she slept, comfortably leaving her in the care of the medi-droid until morning. This was different; when Emily had entered the Chancellor’s crimson chambers to speak with him, she’d been a little unsteady on her feet, yes - and emotional - but otherwise she was flushed and healthy, her spirit a warm pulse of light. When he shuffled her out to the transporter only minutes later, her skin was freezing against his palm, her body pale and trembling even with Anakin’s cloak wrapped around her shoulders and his hands trying to rub the warmth back into her limbs. Whatever had caused so immediate a decline, surely it was more than a few too many glasses of wine?</p><p>“How much and of what?” Pei said, walking over to the wall panels and hitting some buttons, triggering the blue light of a scanner to shimmer in the air above Emily’s prone body. She flinched back and groaned, closing her eyes against the radiant beam as it swept over her.</p><p>“Three or four-”</p><p>“Glasses?” Pei interrupted, her voice sharp with irritation. Pei Pelri did <em>not</em> appreciate her sleep being disturbed, that at least remained unchanged from when they were younglings. “Obi-Wan, I swear if you got me out of bed for-”</p><p>“Bottles, Pei. Three or four <em>bottles </em>of Toniray wine.”</p><p>“And some other drink,” Anakin added. Both Pei and Obi-Wan turned to stare at him. “I’m not sure what it was. I think Senator Organa gave it to her.”</p><p>“When did she…” Wait, why was he asking Anakin? Obi-Wan leaned over, placing his hand on Emily’s shoulder, still swaddled in his padawan’s dark cloak with an additional silver thermo-blanket tucked over it. “Emily, what else were you drinking? How much did you have?”</p><p>“Alone,” she whispered. That was another worrying thing Emily had been doing since they’d left Five-Hundred Republica - she’d been drifting in and out, mumbling incoherently. Half the time Obi-Wan couldn’t make it out, but when he did, it was words like that.</p><p>Alone.</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>Gone.</p><p>“Did it not occur to either of you two half-wits, that you should maybe have <em>stopped</em> her from drinking four bottles of wine?” Pei said, scowling at them. “Wasn’t that the entire point of you both being there in the first place? To watch out for her?”</p><p>Obi-Wan didn’t know what to say to that. Pei was right, that was entirely the point of both he and Anakin accompanying Emily to the event. And instead of watching over her, intervening when he should, Obi-Wan had lingered back and done little more than agonize over his own feelings. How long had he stood out on that balcony, replaying every second in his head, wrestling down the swelling tide of emotions and recriminations threatening to drown him? It had felt like hours. Then he’d watched a tear streak down her cheek, and it had nearly undone him all over again. And when he saw Emily and Palpatine…</p><p>Obi-Wan gulped down a mouthful of air. “What do the scans say?” he asked, entirely trying to avoid Pei’s accusing stare. He felt her eyes sear into him for a few more seconds, before she turned to the table and picked up a datapad. Obi-Wan lowered his gaze to Emily’s face. Her breathing was steady enough, and he thought that she looked a little better, though it was hard to tell with her face washed out from the blue light of the scanner.</p><p>“Hmmm, blood alcohol levels are point two-three-seven. It’s high, but not dangerously so.”</p><p>“Why is she so cold then?” Anakin asked. “Her skin feels like ice.”</p><p>“Well, Emily’s blood sugar levels are low,” Pei said, tapping away at the datapad. “That often happens, so not unexpected. Electrolyte balance is outside the normal range as well. I suppose we’re seeing exactly how Emily’s physiology reacts to excessive alcohol consumption - which, given how much she’s had, I’d say she’s coping surprisingly well. No vomiting. No incontinence. No terrible attempts at singing. I’ve seen far worse - and from a smaller amount of alcohol too.”</p><p>“So she’s going to be alright?” Anakin asked. Obi-Wan inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.</p><p>“I expect so, although how she’ll feel in the morning remains to be seen. I’ll give her a recovery injection, to sort out the blood sugar and electrolyte issues. We’ll keep her here overnight, with the droids monitoring her. That should be more than enough. I’ll comms you if anything changes.”</p><p>Obi-Wan nodded, walking over to draw up a seat, settling himself down into the padded cushions. Anakin remained standing at the side of Emily’s medibed. She seemed to have fallen asleep now; Obi-Wan could make out the faint flicker of her eyelids as she quietly dreamed.</p><p>“Obviously I need to be less subtle,” Pei said, her voice sharp with irritation. “That was me telling you two to get out of here and leave me in peace. So shoo! Go and sleep - or wake up and irritate some other poor Jedi in the Temple - just get out from under my feet.”</p><p>“Oh, sorry!” Anakin said, flushing a little. “I’ll go back to my room. Goodnight, Masters.” He bowed, and then stopped abruptly after only a few steps towards the door. “You will wake me up if anything happens?” he asked, sending a worried glance at Emily.</p><p>“Yes, yes.” Pei waved a dismissive hand. “Now off with you.”</p><p>Anakin bowed again and left the room. Obi-Wan didn’t move. He could feel Pei’s gaze burning into his forehead.</p><p>“Force give me strength,” she muttered, coming to stand in front of him, her short body looming just enough to block Emily from view. Obi-Wan blinked up at her mildly. He only noticed now that Pei wasn’t wearing her Jedi robes under her long cloak, but was wearing a thin, pale cream nightgown instead. Bare, velvet brown toes scratched against the durasteel flooring. They really had dragged her out of bed for this, when they’d sent a comms on their way back to the Temple.</p><p>“Now I get the feeling you’re just <em>trying</em> to annoy me,” Pei said, scowling down at him.</p><p>“Not at all,” Obi-Wan replied. While there was a deep respect and friendship between them, Pei and Obi-Wan were both Knights of the Order, and Obi-Wan was under no obligation to bow to her irate demands. More to the point, he had absolutely no inclination to either. He had resolved to spend the rest of the night here, keeping an eye on Emily himself. It’s not like he had any prospects of rest, even if he did retire to his chambers; not with Emily lying here alone, and the hot churn of tonight’s events still roiling in his chest and pounding through his head. No - better to stay here where he could keep an eye on her, and perhaps, if he was very lucky, he might find enough calm to meditate on the jumbled mess of the last few days, and put his thoughts and feelings into some kind of rational order.</p><p>Above him, Pei’s eyes narrowed, then she gave a heaving sigh. “Fine - just give me two minutes. I knew when my comm went off that I’d get no further sleep tonight…” Pei trailed off into a low muttering monologue as she moved about the room, rummaging through drawers and clattering over tables. Obi-Wan ignored her. He now had an uninterrupted view of Emily’s sleeping face. She was still little more than a mound under Anakin’s cloak and the blanket, her pale face peeking out the top, curled hair spread out around her. Now that the scanner lights were off, he could see that she wasn’t as pale as before. There was a hint of colour now in her cheeks, a subtle tinge of pink coming back to her lips.</p><p>His memory flashed with the image of Emily in the Chancellors arms, limp and trembling. No matter how much he tried to push it from his thoughts, or ignore it entirely, every detail seemed to be seared into his retinas. It wasn’t even the image so much that concerned him, but his reaction to it. Obi-Wan had stepped into the Chancellor’s chambers with no greater thought than to let him know of the last guest leaving - and perhaps to hint that it was time for Emily to return to the Temple. Instead, he had been forced to face something so much darker.</p><p>Anger. Possessiveness. For just a fraction of a second, both had swept through him with such a ferocious intensity, it’d felt like his lungs had been set alight. Through the burning haze, all he could see was Emily in Palpatine’s arms, her hands clutching at him, pulling him close, as his face hovered inches from her own. Then, almost as soon as it had struck, the crimson-edged darkness had receded. Suddenly, it wasn’t two lovers caught in an embrace; it was Emily, swaying on unsteady feet, all colour blanched from her skin as she looked around in confusion. It was Palpatine, helping to hold her shaking body steady, concern creased into every line of his face.</p><p>Obi-Wan knew only too well all the faults in his character; it was the duty of a Jedi to acknowledge one’s flaws - to spend their life dedicated to constant correction and self-improvement. As for Obi-Wan’s? He knew he could be overly sharp and easily irritated - at times judgmental and severe in his disapproval. But blinded - no - enraged by jealousy? That was something he’d never felt before; and just the memory of it left a bitter revulsion in its wake. No easier path was there to the Darkside, than to look upon another soul as something in your possession. It made his stomach churn to think that he had, even for a second, been overtaken by such a feeling. It went against everything; his beliefs, his training - even the very idea of who he was as a person and as a Jedi.</p><p>A gasp pulled Obi-Wan from his thoughts. Emily twitched, face twisting before it smoothed over again back into sleep. Pei stood at her side, and he watched as an injector was withdrawn from her right arm. Pei pulled the covers back up over Emily’s torso, setting aside the now empty cylindrical plunger. Then, with a long-suffering sigh, she dragged a chair across the floor and set it directly in front of him, close enough that when she sat down, their knees almost touched.</p><p>“Out with it then,” Pei said, wrapping her cloak tightly around her, until she was entirely covered from her neck to her toes.</p><p>“With what?”</p><p>“With what’s rumbling around in that usually empty skull of yours. Whatever your thoughts are, they’ve been rattling away ever since you returned, loud enough that I’ll likely be able to hear them from my quarters - and then neither of us will get any rest tonight.”</p><p>“It’s…nothing,” he replied reluctantly, the words coming out stilted even to his own ears. This wasn’t something he could talk about, not even to Pei, for all the time they’d been friends. What would he say to her - to anybody for that matter, if he were to talk about it? How he’d very nearly abandoned the Jedi Order tonight, just on the prospect of a kiss? How he’d felt a rush of emotions so dark, he was worried that he couldn’t trust his own judgement anymore?</p><p>“It’s to do with Emily. Something happened tonight, didn’t it?” Pei said. There wasn’t any accusation in her voice, or in the mild - entirely unsurprised - expression on her face.</p><p>“Yes,” Obi-Wan admitted, his voice little more than a whisper. He dropped his eyes to the floor, where the brown edges of Pei’s cloak pooled against the sterile silver-grey tile.</p><p>“And?”</p><p>Obi-Wan grasped for words. He knew that she was prompting him for more details, but all he could hear was a question asking him what he was going to do. What action was he going to take? He knew how he felt about Emily - what he had experienced and the terrible path it could lead him down - so what now? What was his solution? Obi-Wan could only think of one.</p><p>“I need to speak to the Council, as soon as possible.”</p><p>“The Council?” Pei said, and now she did look surprised. “Why?”</p><p>“Because Anakin and I have completed our primary assignment, which was to teach Emily to speak Basic and to help her integrate into the Temple. We’ve done all that and more - there’s nothing further that she can learn from our instruction…”</p><p>He paused, looking over to where Emily still slept soundly. His heart ached to look at her, knowing what he was going to say.</p><p>“And Anakin and I need another assignment - a long one - as far away from the Temple as they can send us.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Chapter 31</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Emily’s back hit the floor, the impact between her shoulder blades knocking the breath straight out of her. Staring up at the exposed rock ceiling, she took a moment to contemplate exactly how much of a bollocking Pei was going to give her, her lungs gasping in the hot, recycled air. There was a creak and whine of servos, a skeletal shadow looming just at the corner of her eyes, as a ringing metallic voice said - “Do you yield?”</p><p>Emily groaned and rolled onto her belly, pushing herself up on trembling arms till she was on her hands and knees. Her shirt was stuck to her back with sweat, her face burning hot and stinging where it dripped salt down her brow and cheeks. She was fairly certain that her bruises were forming bruises now, but that just seemed to ignite that little ball of hot defiance in her gut. ‘MacKenzie stubbornness’ her granny had always called it; Emily came from a long line of people who just didn’t have the sense to know when to quit - for better or worse. And right now, that particular trait was definitely leaning towards the worse.</p><p>“Fuck off,” she said in English, slowly drawing herself back up onto her feet. She spread her legs in a wide stance, trying not to wince as she took a second to stretch her back, feeling her joins pop and crack.</p><p>“Do you yield?” the voice repeated, not understanding a word that she’d just spoken.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>The shadow lunged.</p><p>It’s truly amazing how much the brain can process in just a fraction of a second. Emily was aware of the weightless suspension of her body as she arced towards the ground, could feel each sharp metallic joint of the robotic hand gripping the front of her shirt, pressing painful spiked fingers into the skin on her hip. But even as the room swirled in her vision, all she could think was - nine weeks. It’d been nine weeks since Ben and Ani had left, and she’d never felt so aimless - so utterly alone - in her entire life. </p><p>Which, given her current situation, was rather ironic - in an Alanis Morissette sort of way. There was a whole Temple full of thousands of people around her at any given time. Jocasta still reigned over the Archives, always eager for any new story or snippet of history she could think of. Shaak Ti was still giving her hallikset lessons twice a week, determined to prove that <em>every</em> being had music in their soul, even someone as ‘tonally impaired’ as Emily. Then there was Pei, who had become marginally more tolerant of her lurking around the labs for company. Emily had even started visiting the younglings’ halls of an occasional late afternoon - the novelty of her being an adult, but not a Jedi Master or a Temple worker, meant that she was met with an interesting mixture of unabashed curiosity and genuine openness. They peppered her with questions, and Emily was equally liberal in asking them in return. While far more serious and self-aware than children around their age had any right to be; they were also quick to laugh, to ramble and talk over each other, to argue and shout, to run and play and jump and sprint like their little bodies were so bursting with energy that their limbs couldn’t contain it all. Chatting with them was one of the few things that filled the hollow ache in her chest - at least for a while…</p><p>Until she remembered that Ben had left because of her.</p><p>That wasn’t the official reason given, of course. They’d been assigned to an important mission by the Council, Ani had explained. It was what Jedi did; they went to planets like Malastare - they investigated serious issues, like the possible abduction of a member of the Dug Council. They solved problems no one else in the Galaxy could. And everyone knew that he - and his Master - were the best in the Temple at what they did. That was probably why they were assigned in the first place, even though they were meant to be looking after Emily. Ani had no doubts at all that they’d be back in a few weeks. He promised he’d find something - something interesting - to bring her back as a gift. Then he’d left, with a tight hug and his face tinged pink with embarrassed pleasure, when she’d placed a fond kiss on his cheek as he hurried out the door.</p><p>Ben himself had only visited her once before they left. It was on the day following the party. Emily had woken in the medical infirmary, her head feeling like it was slowly being shrunken down to the size of a peanut m&amp;m, and her memory after drinks with Senator Organa nothing more than an empty void. Pei had mercilessly prodded her with questions, and pointy things, before waving off her apologies and practically grounding her to her room for the day. And that was where Ben had found her, showered and changed from her sleep wrinkled dress into the cosiest clothes she’d been given, wishing for nothing more than a swift death. Emily was well versed with Earth hangovers - hell she was practically a connoisseur of them - but if what she’d felt was any indicator, these new-fangled space hangovers were on par with medieval trepanning.</p><p>
  <em>“How are you?” he’d asked, lingering near the door like he wanted to bolt from the room at the first opportunity. Emily had spent the morning curled up on the sofa and submerged under all the blankets MEL could scrounge up, bemoaning a galaxy where hangovers existed but Irn-Bru had never been invented as a cure.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Where do the Jedi stand on mercy killings?” she’d mumbled back in reply. Ben chuckled, eyes crinkling, but after a few seconds the smile slowly slipped from his face. He wandered over to the drawings pinned to her wall, pretending to examine them like he hadn’t seen them a hundred times already, while he stroked a hand through his beard.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I have some news,” he said, turning slightly but still avoiding her eye.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“The Council has assigned Anakin and I on a mission. I’m afraid that we may be gone from the Temple for some time.” He didn’t look at her as he said this, he just crossed his arms and let his eyes trace the polished copper lines in the floor.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“When are you leaving?” she asked, the blankets peeling away as she sat up. She’d been worried that Ben would want to talk about what happened on the balcony, but this was entirely unexpected. When had all this been decided?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“First light tomorrow.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She stared blankly at him, waiting for her brain to catch up and process what he said. It didn’t make any sense. “So soon?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Our assignment is very important and can’t be delayed,” he said. Spotting her dress, Ben walked over to where it was tossed over the back of a chair for MEL to clean and return. He plucked up a layer of the shimmering fuchsia silk, rubbing it between his fingers absent-mindedly. “Anyway, we’ve been kept from field work for far longer than we should. It’s had an impact on Anakin’s training.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Sorry I’ve been such a burden,” Emily said, trying to keep the bite from her voice.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The dress slipped from his fingers as his head jerked up, finally making eye contact with her. “No, Emily…you know I didn’t mean…” Ben fumbled before snapping his mouth shut. He closed his eyes, took a breath and then let out a sigh. “I didn’t mean it that way.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When he opened his eyes again, he took another deep breath and pulled his mouth into a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Besides, you don’t need Anakin and I here any longer,” he continued, keeping his voice light. “Your Basic is good enough now to charm a room full of Senators - there’s not much more we can help you with. And you have Pei and the others nearby, should you need anything. You’ll be perfectly safe here while were gone.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She didn’t know what to say to that, so she just nodded, picking at the edge of a blanket that looked like it’d been crocheted from iridescent fur.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I should go. There’s a lot of preparations still to be completed before we leave.” He made his way towards the door.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t remember everything from last night…” she said, swallowing hard around the lump building in her throat, trying to blink the stinging burn from her eyes, “but if I did or said anything to upset you, then I’m sorry. I don’t know what it was - but you know that the last thing I’d want is to make you uncomfortable, right?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ben stopped half-way through the door. He didn’t look back at her. “You don’t need to apologise. You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “This is just the way things have to be.”</em>
</p><p>Bam! Emily hit the floor hard enough to rattle her teeth. The tight metal fist was still pressing against her chest, pinning her to the ground. Yellow filament eyes stared down at her, glowing against the dull grey faceplate, blocking out everything else from her vision.</p><p>“Do you yield?”</p><p>Emily grit her teeth, twisting to the side as much as possible while still clamped in the vice-like grip, and swept her leg out as hard as she could. Her fleshy human foot met a steel plated knee. The yell of pain that tore from her throat reverberated around the room.</p><p>“Do you yield?” it repeated, entirely unaffected by either the kick or her resulting cry.</p><p>“I would suggest you say ‘yes’,” a calm, deep voice remarked from the side of the room. Her foot was throbbing like an infected tooth, but the irrationally angry part of Emily didn’t want to yield. She wanted to tear this walking pile of fucking scrap apart. Barely even thinking, Emily grabbed at the arm pinning her down, digging her fingers into the gaps in the forearm’s plating. She could feel the electric sting of static fizzle along her fingertips, and grinding a snarl through her teeth, Emily pulled with everything she had. The creaking groan as the metal started to buckle and shift under her hands caught her by surprise - and it seemed to surprise the droid as well. A sharp crackle of blue electricity sparked where one of the protected wires had snapped, and just before she managed to peel the arm-plate off entirely, the droids other hand shot out, yanking down on her wrist until she let go. The long-fingered hand clamped around her throat, pressing down hard enough to make spots swim in her vision.</p><p>“Do you yield?” it said, and maybe it was just Emily’s imagination, but the voice this time didn’t sound quite as emotionless.</p><p>She growled and bucked and swore, but the thing didn’t move. Eventually, Emily bit out a reluctant, “fine, I yield!” and immediately the pressure on her throat was gone. The droid pulled away from her entirely, standing back a few paces from where she lay, still panting the air back into her body.</p><p>“These training droids are only authorised for use by Jedi,” the deep voice continued, as if he hadn’t just watched her nearly be choked out by a robot. “They are not authorised for use by anyone else - especially not by someone lacking in any form of combat training.”</p><p>“I’m not entirely sure what you are trying to achieve…other than injuring yourself…” said the voice, as another long shadow stretched out until it blocked her vision. Sharp eyes glanced down at her from a familiar dark brown face, “…and damaging the training droids.”</p><p>Emily looked up at the unblinking Mace Windu, noting the raised angle of a questioning eyebrow. Otherwise, his face was just as inscrutable as it always was. “I’m trying to learn how to fight.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Well, according to some people, I’m supposed to be something of a galactic collector’s edition item,” Emily said. She made a move to sit up, but the scream of pain from the bruises in her body, now felt in exquisite detail thanks to the drop in her adrenaline, made Emily flop back down with a groan. Maybe she could just lie there for the next day or two instead. A hand extended down, palm out in offering, and well, now she had to get up or Master Windu would think she was rude. Damn him. Emily took his warm, dry hand in her sweaty one, and let him pull her onto shaky feet.</p><p>“Unless the stories about people wanting to capture and sell me are an exaggeration? It’s not like I’d be upset if they were.”</p><p>“They’re not an exaggeration-” Mace said, casting a critical eye over her, “-but you’re under the protection of the Jedi Order. While you stay under our protection, no harm will come to you.”</p><p>“And what happens when I stop being under your protection?”</p><p>“Are you planning on leaving the Temple?” he asked, raising his eyebrow again.</p><p>“I…” God, was she thinking that? Emily didn’t know why, but for weeks now she couldn’t shake the horrible feeling that everything was changing. She didn’t want to leave the Temple…the thought terrified her. For all the time she’d been here, Emily still knew nothing about surviving in this new galaxy she’d been thrust into. But in the back of her mind, a wriggling doubt told her that she’d need to learn, and learn soon.</p><p>“No…I don’t know. It could happen, couldn’t it? I mean, I’ll be travelling to Alderaan two weeks from now, and even though Pei will be with me, I should learn how to protect myself just in case. It’s not like I can have a Jedi following me around for the rest of my life. At some point I’ll need to learn how to live by myself.”</p><p>Master Windu didn’t say anything, but Emily could feel the pressure of his eyes on her. It was more subtle than when Ben or Ani did it, but the tell-tale feeling of his mind brushing over her was one she could still recognise. “And is learning self-defence the only reason you decided to activate the hand-to-hand combat protocol on this droid?”</p><p>“It’s also amazing exercise,” she said, pulling her thoughts back tight within her. Emily didn’t want him to feel her emotions - mainly because they were such a jumbled, rioting mess she couldn’t even get a grip on them herself. Instead, she put on her best impish look and tried to fall back on humour. She lifted her right arm, flexing the spindly limb like she was a body-builder at a show.</p><p>“Look at the muscles I’m building. You can almost make out a shadow, if you look really closely right there…” she said, pointing to the tiniest indent hinting at the pathetic mound of muscle slowly developing underneath. “Impressive, isn’t it?”</p><p>Mace Windu couldn’t have looked any less impressed if he tried. Even though she was joking about it, Emily actually <em>was</em> gradually building muscle and getting stronger for it. Since Ben and Ani had left, she’d found that she couldn’t sit still - couldn’t focus - without her thoughts falling back to the night of the event. It was infuriating and upsetting and tiring, going over and over it in her mind. So - even though she hated exercise with a fiery passion - Emily had decided to spend her days throwing herself into every kind of physical activity she could, until she was too exhausted to think of anything. She spent her mornings running up and down the Ceremonial Staircase outside the Temple’s doors, singing the Eye of The Tiger to herself for motivation. She explored every nook and cranny of the underwater quarters, swimming against the swirling artificial currents till all of her ached. She did push-ups till her arms collapsed and sit-ups till her stomach burned, and slowly, very slowly, her body had started to change.</p><p>For some odd reason, after learning that she was naturally stronger than the humans here, Emily thought that she’d be able to just suddenly do amazing things. Like run for miles without being out of breath or do a thousand push-ups without breaking a sweat; but that wasn’t how it worked. She hadn’t actually changed. When Emily had went to do push-ups, she found herself still tapping out at five. Puzzled, she’d asked an exasperated Pei who explained that, while her muscles and bones were denser and stronger, that meant that she was heavier for it. Emily may have been three times stronger than a Galactic woman with the same height and body-shape, but she was also over double their weight. It was quite the dent to her vanity to realise that she likely weighed the same, or even more, than either Ben or Ani.</p><p>It also explained why objects and items were so much lighter feeling here. Emily had just thought everything was that way on purpose; like they were made of aluminium or plastic as a kind of space-age aesthetic. But everything was built to accommodate the human’s here. Droid parts and casings were light and flexible because humans built them to be assembled and disassembled easily by hand. It was the same with chairs and tables, wall panelling’s and crates. Everything and anything humans had to handle, was automatically made with their limitations in mind.</p><p>“You’re distracted,” Mace said, pulling her back from her wandering thoughts. Emily was about to protest, but the look he gave her, made her mouth shut with a click of teeth. He really wasn’t a man that could be bullshitted.</p><p>“Today’s the one-year anniversary of when I crashed here,” Emily eventually admitted. It had completely thrown her when MEL had declared it after her morning shower, congratulating her like it was some wonderful miracle that she’d survived this long. Emily had just sat there, half-dressed on her bed, staring blankly at the walls. A whole year had passed. All she wanted to do was talk to Ben and Ani about it, but they were gone. “I don’t know - I just couldn’t stop thinking. I felt like I needed to do something.”</p><p>Mace didn’t say anything else, but he was watching her like he was coming to some kind of decision. Eventually, he nodded to himself. “Meet me here at eighteen-forty hours, tomorrow. What you’re wearing now will be fine.”</p><p>“For what?” Emily said, thrown by the sudden shift in conversation.</p><p>“If you’re serious on learning self-defence, you will need someone to teach you,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He cast a look around the room, before turning to head out the door. “Let the maintenance technicians know that one of the training droids is damaged and will need repairs.”</p><p>“Oh, and Emily,” he called behind him, as he disappeared from sight. “Don’t be late.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Eventually needed to get a bit of Windu action in. He's not an easy character to write, gotta say.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>